Seoul and Tokyo: a tale of two cities
By David Tizzard
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way -- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
And as the plot thickens, one is right to think of Dickens – for his words above have likely never been more apt.
Seoul and Tokyo are two cities now divided. Yet strangely it is that very division, the animosity and opposition, which then in turn defines their very existence.
Much like the ancient yin and yang melt into their opposite, are incomplete without the other, so are modern national identities in Northeast Asia still being shaped by referencing who and what they are not.
The past week I have spent time in far places of the Korean Peninsula: in the cicada-driven heat of central Seoul, high in the green mountains of Gangwando above the historic 38th parallel, driving the omnipresent stonewalls on the island of Jeju, and swimming on the more remote island of Udo.
Despite these 4 locations covering the length of this ancient land, I have encountered a modern and unflinching anti-Japanese sentiment in all of them.
Posters, placards, protests, people. Messages, shop signs, absences, and tweets.
The rising animosity directed against Prime Minister Abe, the Japanese government, the entirety of the people, the very nation itself, and then anything remotely Japanese – be it beer, biscuits, or ballpoint pens – is what unites the people of Korea amidst all of their other many violent political, cultural, generational, regional, and sexual divisions.
Talking occasionally with friends, family members, taxi drivers, restaurant owners, barflies, and convenience store workers, however, I have understood that the rancor and resentment is not entirely unanimous.
Yet what the actual percentage of people on either side of the dividing line of 51 million people is I would not like to say. Moreover, one must always keep in mind Timur Kuran’s “preference falsification” and why some will say some things publically but hold different ideas privately in the depths of their minds.
Rather than pontificate at length and tell the Korean people how I believe they should be acting or feeling in light of such an emotive and historically-driven situation, I simply intend to pose some questions.
These are questions which keep me awake at night – turning over the possibilities and probabilities until I am gripped by a sleep occasionally filled with the horrors of past conflicts, war, and terror.
The answers may seem immediately obvious, but do consider that not everyone always thinks the same nor are they expected to.
First: Are Korea-Japan relations affected by the hierarchical personal relationships that manifest themselves inside individual Asian nations?
Of the traditional five Confucian relationships, only one – that between friends of the same age – is said to be non-hierarchical. For the other four, one of the actors will always be superior to the other. This is played out with honorific language and deferential actions and treatment.
For these two countries, who is the older brother? Who (or which) is the superior nation?
Second: Is the current situation between the two nations exacerbated by a relative lack of forgiveness in the cultures?
Morality across peoples is always different and one should, where possible, avoid ethnocentric views of right and wrong. Yet traditionally, Northeast Asian cultures do not have a long history of a “forgiving” monotheistic god – both for better and for worse.
So have more idiosyncratic and long-standing elements of culture such as face – che-myeon – made it much more difficult for individuals, and therefore by extension, countries to move beyond such conflicts?
Third: With some of the strongest anti-Japanese feelings being evident in the youth of the country, is the problem only like to get worse over time? And, moreover, is it therefore exacerbated by dizzying torrents of teeth gnashing found on social media?
One might conclude that the elderly – more directly impacted by the mind-erasing burdens of Japanese colonization and the resulting black and white diplomatic agreements – would be more vociferous in their complaints and feelings towards their neighbours. Yet it is the teenagers, university students, and those in their 20s that are often the loudest in condemning Japan for their history.
Fourth: How much of the current situation is being manipulated by those who manage the land and occupy positions of power for their own political and professional gain rather than the benefit of the country and citizens who toil in such heat?
A rather controversial question, yet the conflict has dominated the news cycle and caused all other divisive social issues to take somewhat of a backseat. Moreover, it has also seen politicians in both countries witness a rise in their domestic popularity as they rally against the “enemy”.
Is this a boon for those in power but to the detriment of those living day-to-day in society?
Fifth: Somewhat related to the question above, how much is a boycotting of common retail outlets such as Uniqlo and 7-eleven likely to affect Korean youth employment and part-time workers employed by such companies?
Current figures stand at very low levels with many of the young struggling for work and money in an ever competitive and expensive society, so will a rally against such commercial establishments put Korean teenagers and citizens out of pocket more than the “Japanese” it intends to target?
Sixth: What is going to happen with all those students, professors, and employees of Japanese departments at the nation’s universities?
Do all those enrolled in Japanese Language and Literature courses have to now second-guess their choice of major or live in a state of discomfort because of their love of Murakami Haruki (or more likely because their suneung score left them with little option)?
The above six questions are those with which I have been contemplating of late. They are not the definitive questions of the age, but rather merely those which rally against my resting peace.
I profess here no personal or definitive answers to them but rather am instead interested in the views of Korean citizens, politicians, foreign observers, and, wherever possible, Japanese people. And of course, I seek peace amongst the conflicts either internal or international.
David Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) is an assistant professor at Seoul Women’s University. Socrates Café in Seoul will be holding a live discussion of current Korea-Japan relations on August 15th (4pm-6pm) at the Francisco Center in Jungdong, Seoul.