Please define 'Korean'

 

About a year into my military service, a platoon member came up to me with a curious face. “Corporal Lee, what is a donggeurangddeng?” he asked while looking at our brigade’s Chuseok menu. Donggeurangddeng are meat patties eaten here on traditional holidays.

To most Koreans, the mere scent of donggeurangddeng is enough to evoke nostalgia. For this soldier, however, having just moved to Korea a few months before enlisting, the word was foreign. His mother was a North Korean escapee, while his father was Chinese. He was not legally required to serve in the South Korean military, but had expressed, in a well-thought-out-answer, that he felt Korean and wanted to perform his national duty.

However, it wasn’t always easy for him to assimilate. Language barriers and cultural differences separated him from “the rest of us.” Some of his superiors voiced complaints when he ate Chinese snacks and looked offended when he spoke Mandarin. Thankfully, the soldier was a fast adapter, swiftly learning Korea’s conservative military culture and going on to become a full-time officer.

I had put this memory aside, citing it as a hopeful encounter with a happy ending. However, a recent political skirmish between Lee Jun-seok, the estranged former ruling party leader, and Ihn Yo-han, the leader of the ruling party’s innovation committee, demanded that my mind revisit it. Ihn, a naturalized South Korean, was born to white U.S. missionary parents in Suncheon, South Jeolla Province. He has since lived in Korea for over 60 years as a full-fledged South Korean citizen.

However, in a recent political quarrel, Lee spoke to Ihn in English, referring to him as “Mr. Linton,” the surname used by Ihn’s parents. Lee went as far as to say that Ihn did not look like “one of us.” Ihn expressed his regret, saying he did not appreciate being treated like a foreigner.

Ihn and that soldier both identify as Korean — and both are Korean citizens. But what really makes someone Korean?

Naver’s online dictionary defines Korean as “a person who has Korean citizenship or has the Korean lineage and spirit.” According to this broad definition, both naturalized Koreans and foreign nationals of Korean descent should be considered Korean. But, as a homogeneous society, Korea tends to implement a more exclusive definition, often merging race with ethnicity.

Even as little as 15 years ago, South Korea still taught of its homogeneity with pride, as if it was some feat to have a uniform population. Of course, a homogenous society provides some stability and unity; however, it forgoes the chance to assimilate brilliant minds and human resources. Nowadays, in light of new demographic problems, like the low birthrate, a declining labor force and low economic growth, South Korea has shifted to promoting multiculturalism.

The rising generation — popularly labeled MZ generation (Millennial and Gen Z) — has grown up in an increasingly globalized society. University classrooms spout diversity, and over 20,000 foreigners have been naturalized as of 2021. Nonetheless, society is still undecided on what to call people like the soldier and Ihn. While Korea wishes to integrate into the international community and grow as a cultural powerhouse, it ironically ostracizes those who wish to assimilate just because they do not “look Korean.” Though it is important to establish a clear national identity, we as a society must better accept those who wish to adopt our ideals and contribute to Korean society, instead of calling them out for “not looking like one of us.”

Lee Seung-ku is a senior at Seoul National University.