Power of symbols

Eugene Lee

On the evening of Aug. 15, by sheer luck, my family and I ended up in front of the National Assembly building watching a concert. One member of our family dreamed of obtaining a light wand that was distributed to the public for free. The wands were exclusively produced for that event. After a barrage of songs by the performers, including a grand finale by PSY, the incredible fireworks that followed made me reflect on how symbols shape our lives.

This was reinforced just a few days later, upon my visit to the Independence Hall in the vicinity of Cheonan, South Chungcheong Province. The exhibition, if you can call it that, was the remnants of a cupola that you'd usually find on a top of the building, but this one was sticking out of the ground. A few explanations and a short YouTube video later, I learned that these were the pieces of the colonial Japanese Government-General of Chosen building that President Kim Young-sam had demolished in 1995. I wondered about how powerful the image of the destroyed building was and its impact on South Korea' national psyche.

My third reflection was on yet another building, an image of which I saw at a fast-food restaurant at Seoul Station while waiting for my burger. A newly redesigned shop ran a large-screen commercial picturing the old Seoul Station. Then it clicked — it was symbolic, but it was out of sync with the present. It was out of place, it was wrong and it was colonial.

Symbolism is also very important when mobilized by the state in the present to support the actions of the state — and it is good, like images of released workers from the immigration raid at the Hyundai-LG plant in Georgia recently. The state did all it could to protect its citizens abroad, and the newspapers ran images of the workers getting off the plane sent by the government — symbol of a small victory in one of the recent spats between the US and South Korea in trade.

Symbols play a huge role on the international arena and leaders know it all too well. For example, images of Kim Jong-un side-by-side with President Xi and President Putin are a powerful symbol of desired unity and friendship between the three, and helped Kim to gain a lot domestically and finally helped get North Korea out of diplomatic seclusion.

Symbolism can change attitudes towards countries — note how quickly Trump changed his attitude towards Putin after a series of strong suggestions by Trump which Putin didn’t follow. As a result, the symbol of Trump as a peacemaker collapsed and Russia is likely to feel it in the form of the extended range of the US weapons in Ukraine.

Symbols are multifaceted. For some they may mean one thing, to others something completely different. Moreover, symbols are manageable. Take K-democracy as a symbol put forward by President Lee Jae Myung's administration, for example. It is making waves across the world, especially after Lee’s speech at the United Nations. One should also not forget that the roots of it are in the fight for a country's independence. Once you realize that connection, "K-democracy" gains much deeper meaning and you are able to tap into the historical dimensions of it.

Let's get back to Seoul architecture for a moment. The Central Bank of Korea building may look interesting, unique and even sturdy, but if one recalls that it was built in colonial times, the symbolism changes drastically. Now it is imprinted with external influence over Korea, even decades later.

The same logic applies to the old Seoul City Hall and Bumingwan, which was once used as the meeting hall for the National Assembly, and now houses the Seoul Metropolitan Council. These buildings require a deep revisit in terms of national renewal. Some might argue these buildings are a reminder of the painful past and should be kept untouched so history doesn't repeat itself. However, on the other hand, we may find ourselves attached to them emotionally. The danger is that some might praise them although they were used to drain the country of its resources in the colonial era.

That brings me to yet another symbol evoked by the Lee administration of having 10 "Seoul National" universities. It may sound good, even novel to some, but if one recalls the colonial roots of the university then the symbol becomes tainted. It also becomes obvious that any colonial building including Yonsei, Ewha or any other university, no matter how beautiful they are. Those buildings were built on the blood and suffering of colonized people. To me, they all deserve to go — otherwise we might become attached to them. It is like a victim living with the weapon of the crime, and maybe even secretly worshiping it.

The last and true liberation is the liberation of the nation’s mind. And if we are seeking one, maybe physical, or rather architectural, change is a must. So the next time there is a big national celebration, I'll be ready for a great show like Kim Yong-Sam's. Bring it on!

Eugene Lee (mreulee@gmail.com) is a lecturing professor at the Graduate School of Governance at Sungkyunkwan University in Seoul. Specializing in international relations and governance, his research and teaching focus is on national and regional security, international development, government policies and Northeast and Central Asia. The views expressed in this article are his own.