Disconnecting past and present

The National Museum of Korean Contemporary History, which opened in December, is under criticism for its glorification of Korea’s rapid industrialization process at the expense of underrepresenting its painful struggle for democratization. / Korea Times photo by Hong In-ki

“Policies that Rewrite History,” essay collection; Historical Criticism

By Kim Tong-hyung

If Voltaire had the opportunity to observe the National Museum of Korean Contemporary History, he might have questioned whether this half-baked institution was a real representation of Korea, its contemporary history, or even a museum.

The museum in Gwanghwamun, central Seoul, which replaced the old culture ministry building next to the American embassy, opened in December after four years of preparation and a 44.8 billion won (about $40 million) splurge of taxpayer money. All this was sunken cost long before the museum opened its gates.

It remains to be seen whether the museum will ever overcome being a product of bureaucratic exhibitionism rather than rooted in a commitment to put collective memory in perspective.

The demand for its creation came from former President Lee Myung-bak, who in a speech marking the 60th anniversary of the country’s independence in 2008, called for the need to record the nation’s “history of miracles” and pass the legacy to future generations.

A quick stroll around the three-floor exhibition halls provides a reminder that this is a temple dedicated to the country’s industrialization myth.

Descriptions of Korea’s rapid, export-led economic growth from the 1960s to 1980s are cloying and overdone. So are the displays and media works on “hallyu,” or the Korean cultural boom touched off in Asia during the 2000s, and the country’s shopping spree of international sporting events such as the 1988 Summer Olympics and the 2002 FIFA World Cup.

Reduced and subdued are recollections of the country’s military strongmen and their bloody civilian suppression, the painful process of democratization, the struggles of the working class, increasing problems of inequality and social dysfunction and the challenges of creating a 21st century multiethnic, multicultural society.

Visitors willing to be bashed about their heads with images and stories of Korean cars, mobile phones, K-pop singers and star athletes like Park Chan-ho and Kim Yu-na will find the museum an admission-free joyride. For those wanting to gain a sense of the shaping of contemporary Korea, we would rather recommend the vault of human wisdom that is Wikipedia.

If the content of this museum should be called history, then this is history compressed in a linear path. The republic is founded; policies are executed; economic prosperity follows; democracy finds room to stand. The depiction of a straight line to happiness doubles as an insult to intelligence.

The identity of the museum comes under an opinionated but intelligent attack in “Policies that Rewrite History,” a collection of writings by seven historians and two social science professors published by Historical Criticism.

The authors share concern over how the growing influence of politics in the interpretation of historical events affect social policies, education, the preservation and neutrality of official records, protection of cultural assets and even diplomatic relations with Japan, China and North Korea.

The book opens with Hanshin University’s Ahn Byeong-woo documenting how Korea’s state certification system for scholastic materials used in middle- and high-schools has been abused in the hands of policymakers attempting to overwrite history textbooks.

However, in what was supposed to be the highlight of the book, Ahn fails to provide anything more than a snapshot of the country’s education system and the areas in which it interweaves with politics.

He shows little patience for actual debates between historians and conservatives, such as the legacy of military strongman Park Chung-hee and the rapid process of industrialization that came at the cost of civil liberties. It seems it’s hard for him to imagine that people can take these discussions literally, and that makes him a poor rhetorician.

In the following essay about the contemporary history museum, Seoul National University historian Lee Dong-ki and Sungshin Women’s University’s Hong Suk-ryul succeed where Ahn failed.

Insightful, biting and uplifting despite its subject matter, the article illustrates the conflicting purposes and dynamics in play that eventually reduced the museum to a missed opportunity.

The authors find it inevitable that a contemporary history museum, here or elsewhere, will acquire political value and function. These museums are less about collecting relics of an old era and sticking them in glass jars. They are more about exploring the relationship between a nation’s contemporary experience and its identity and discussing a new set of values for the future.

This is an active, non-stop process and inescapably a political one, since a major function of politics is reassuring a society’s coherence and perpetuating the identity of its members.

A contemporary history museum could only be a society’s autobiographical endeavor ― what’s discussed, dissected and corrected are our own memories as we double as the chroniclers and actors of this drama.

It’s imperative that the museum embraces and promotes a diverse set of values and provides a platform for communication that is constant and democratic, Lee and Hong write. Allow a certain idea to be amplified at the expense of the others and the museum ceases to be a genuine representation of our times.

This is precisely where the Korean contemporary history museum lost its way, the authors argue, by allowing politicians and the power elite, who include big businesses that have benefited from the decades of growth-first polices, to dominate the discourse.

The museum’s website proudly claims that, among the countries that gained independence after World War II, the Republic of Korea was the only one that achieved the dual goal of industrialization and democratization. This isn’t factually correct and probably not something a historian of any integrity should let come out of their mouth.

Then again, there were only four historians in the museum’s 29-member preparation committee. The panel was dominated by government officials and academics tied to the conservative “New Right” movement, a loose association of people from different backgrounds close to the Lee administration.

The museum was originally scheduled to open in 2014, but the process was abridged and ruthlessly paced to be completed before the end of Lee’s tenure at Cheong Wa Dae. Public hearings were non-existent during the preparation process and a national group of historians who offered to provide input were prevented from doing so.

Lee and Hong, who emphasize that the country needs a contemporary history museum but a real one, say it’s best this freshly-opened museum should be rebooted from the start.

Its permanent exhibitions should be suspended temporarily and replaced with a series of special exhibitions to experiment with what could be shown in the halls in the future. A special committee should be formed to manage this process and enable broader participation from academics and the civic society.

Obviously, this is an idea that probably won’t happen because it’s too dramatic. Lee and Hong would argue it won’t happen because it simply makes too much sense.

It was the late British historian Edward Carr who defined history as an “unending dialogue between the present and the past.” This dialogue is non-existent in Seoul’s newest museum where the past is chopped and taxidermied for those empowered to define the present.