Is Korea still a shrimp between whales?

England is a lion. Russia is a bear. China a dragon. America an Eagle. And so on. But what about Korea? What animal best represents the people and the culture? One of my favourite stories comes from Lee Tae-woong’s fabulous KBS documentary on the 1988 Olympics.

The country had to choose an official mascot for the event. Something that would be made into toys and posters and spread around the world. Suggestions ranged from ginseng and Silla crowns to Cheomseongdae, Goryeo pottery and even jangseung, those wonderfully grotesque wooden guardians posted at village entrances. If only we lived in the parallel universe where they won.

Secretly, however, the design committee had hoped that a rabbit would be chosen to represent Korea. At the time, Korea’s image was very different from today. Instead of today's Gangnam glitz, international images of Korea were colored by Gwangju, political repression and nearly three decades of authoritarian rule. By using a rabbit as an Olympic mascot, the hope was that it would soften Korea’s image. Make it appear more approachable, friendlier. Cuter. There’s also a deep tradition of the animal here. Go on Google and you’ll find the Korean Peninsula depicted as a rabbit, it’s eyes facing China and its long ears stretching far up into Manchuria.

You see the rabbit in the Zodiac (1987 and 1999, if you’re interested) and all sorts of folk tales. In Sugungga, made famous again in recent years by Korean alternative pop band Leenalchi, a rabbit is lured down to the Dragon King's underwater palace, discovers that everyone wants his liver and promptly talks his way out of being killed. And as we approach Chuseok, Korea's moon festival, do not forget that Korean tales also talk of a rabbit.

In this tale, the Emperor of the Heavens is having one of those days where he feels like testing mortals, so he disguises himself as a starving beggar. Three animals, a rabbit, a fox and a monkey, decide they want to be top-tier Buddhists and rush to help. The fox brings over some fish. (classic, practical). The monkey brings fruit. (solid, healthy choice). The rabbit? Well, the rabbit looks around, realizes it has zero snacks on hand and instantly decides that the logical next step is to throw itself into a roaring fire so the beggar can have roasted rabbit. Naturally, the emperor is completely floored by this extreme level of dedication. Instead of letting the rabbit become crispy dinner, he saves it, gives it a VIP promotion and ships it off to the moon to live forever. Thus we get the moon rabbit who makes all sorts of lovely rice cakes we get to eat every year!

However, despite all the attempts to make the rabbit the symbol of Korea, one man was having none of it. Chun Doo-hwan, the general who seized power following a military coup and headed the junta during the bloody suppression of the Gwangju Uprising, is said to have scoffed at the idea of a rabbit mascot and told the team to change it immediately to a tiger. Thus, we got Hodori and Korea became more and more associated with the four-legged orange beast of the mountains. The Kellogg Company immediately threatened legal action because, well, it looked pretty similar to Tony the Tiger if we are being honest.

Nevertheless, it’s now much easier to see artwork depicting the Korean Peninsula as a tiger, its claws and mouth reaching up into the north. We learn how Koreans don’t say "Once upon a time" but rather "Back when tigers smoked." And if you’re reading this and wondering whether you’re a tiger, you are if you’re born in 1974, 1986 or 1998. For all my faults, I’m a chicken!

The other animal with which Korea has become long known in more recent years is that of a shrimp. Books and social media tell the story of the shrimp between whales. The full expression is "When whales fight, the shrimp's back is broken". The "whales" represent powerful, influential nations, corporations or leaders locked in a fierce dispute. The "shrimp" represents the weak or ordinary people who have nothing to do with the fight. The "broken back" means the vulnerable get hurt as collateral damage simply by being caught in the middle of a conflict they cannot control. Historically, people often use this proverb to describe Korea’s geopolitical position trapped between powerful neighboring superpowers, such as the U.S., China, Russia and Japan.

As the countries fought each other, Korea was invaded, colonized, divided and neglected. Japan colonized it. The United States and Soviet Union divided it. China, Japan, Russia and America repeatedly shaped its fate. For much of modern history, Koreans had to live with decisions made elsewhere.

And that has been the message of the Korean nation. It suffered because it was poor. Because other nations were simply more powerful. Its role was to endure and, thus, the ballads, the han, the literature, the art and everything else emerged.

But what about today? Of course, Korea is nowhere near the size of these other continental landmasses. But to call it a shrimp would be to do a great injustice to the blistering advancements it has made. Its economy is one of the world’s best, its technology powers much of the globe’s systems and its culture dazzles and entices millions. Once helpless while watching armed conflicts from afar, it got incredibly rich during the Vietnam War. It now has to make decisions when it comes to Iran, Israel, Russia, Ukraine and all the other conflicts around the world the news doesn’t tell you about. Korea is not a powerless shrimp. It has the ability to now make its own decisions, to influence the world. Maybe not as a whale, granted. But England was never that big either if we’re talking about landmass. Perhaps, then, Korea can be a dolphin. They live off the coast of Jeju and dive with the legendary haenyeo. And honestly? A dolphin fits.

Dolphins don’t try to crush the ocean like a whale, and they certainly don't get squashed like a shrimp. They’re smart, agile and they ride the waves of a changing global current with absolute style. I love that they travel in a pod that looks out for one another.

So rather than the rabbit of the past, the dictator-mandated tiger or the geopolitical underdog, today’s Korea isn’t waiting around to be eaten or protected. It’s making the whole ocean look good.