David Tizzard is a professor at Seoul Women’s University, holds a PhD in Korean Studies, and hosts the Korea Deconstructed podcast. He has lived and worked in Seoul for more than two decades. Reach him at datizzard@swu.ac.kr.
Korea's vaccine failure?
People queue in line to get a coronavirus test at a makeshift testing site in Seoul, July 16, while holding umbrellas to avoid the heat. AP-Yonhap
By David A. Tizzard
By David A. Tizzard
The tenth biggest economy in the world, its boy band crushing the U.S. Billboard all summer, and companies like Samsung as genuine powerhouses in the international arena, Korea is truly a cultural and economic phenomenon that has successfully transitioned from a post-colonial military dictatorship to a thriving democracy in a tough part of the world.
Last year, it boasted of its “K-quarantine” program as a model that others could follow as it saw relatively low infection rates while much of Western Europe and North America was shellacked by the virus. It certainly implemented a lot of good top-down habits, but we should forget that mask-wearing and non-physical greetings such as bowing (rather than handshakes and kisses) were already the norm here in Korea.
In his third inaugural speech in 2020 President Moon Jae-in said, “We have already become a country leading the world in epidemic prevention and control. Korea's COVID-19 response has become a global standard. The national status of the Republic of Korea and the people's pride are higher than ever. We have firmly defended the frontlines of the quarantine based on the strength of our people and have been winning the war against the virus. With our COVID-19 situation entering the stabilization phase, we have now transitioned to a new normal in which safety precautions against the virus and daily lives can be simultaneously maintained.”
But what a difference a year makes. It all feels a bit different now on the ground level as Korea reports record numbers of daily infections on a frequent basis and enacts its toughest social distancing guidelines, including regulations on how fast you can run on a treadmill and what BPM the music should be. Yes, seriously. Meanwhile, the country has given just over 30 percent of the population a single shot ― a number lower than many other developed nations. Korea has fully vaccinated only 13 percent of the population thus far: for context, U.K. (54.6 percent), Canada (52.6 percent), U.S. (49.3 percent), Singapore (49 percent), Italy (45.9 percent) and Japan (23 percent).
I was lucky enough to receive mine but so many others here face the frustration of having to go about their day-to-day lives in packed subways, elevators, and offices without such a safety-net. The number of doses being administered crawled to a halt after a big surge in June and although it has resumed again, whereas once there were 850,000 doses given each day, now we are down to 30,000. And these are largely just first shots remember.
I often turn down media requests to talk about COVID-19 because I'm not a medical doctor and there is far too much I don't know about the science behind such things. Yet it seems that even a layperson can understand that getting vaccinations to citizens is one of the biggest priorities. So where does the responsibility for vaccinating the public lie? Surely it is the government tasked with such issues? Irrespective of their political views or what color ties they may or may not wear, we ask those in power, those who live and work based on the tax we pay, to do this for us.
The government cannot claim a lack of money. It also cannot suggest it does not have political connections as it moves from prestigious events in the White House to the 2021 G7 Summit. It cannot talk of a public unwilling to get vaccinated because of unfounded fears about 5G or waiting the second-coming of a man in a red hat: the people here want the vaccine and spend their time with fingers hovering over apps waiting to see if they will win the needle lottery. Of course, most fail.
It has been easy to scapegoat various parts of the population along the way. We've seen Christians, conservative rallies, foreigners, the LGBTQI+ community, Buddhist monks, and young Koreans all take the blame at some point over the past year. Reports this week said that it was lax public attitudes towards social distancing that were contributing to the problem. But there aren't many other places left for us to point the finger. Expect perhaps where it matters.
I would not like to be politician at the best of times, least of all during a global pandemic. But surely our duty to each other is to be honest, promote open dialogue, and admit our failures as and when they happen so we can learn from them and get better. Korean politicians, it's over to you.
Dr. David A. Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) has a Ph.D. in Korean Studies. He is a social/cultural commentator and musician who has lived in Korea for nearly two decades. The views expressed in the article are the author's own and do not reflect the editorial direction of The Korea Times.