Is Korea violent?

By Andrew Salmon

Is Korea a violent nation?

That was certainly this country's reputation for many years.

Previously unknown by many people around the world, Korea first exploded onto global maps in 1950 by dint of a bloody and particularly savage war. TV screens flickered with images of coup d'etats, and throughout the 1980s, massive and (apparently) violent protests.

That was the news; the culture was similarly brutal. Perhaps the most notorious 007 villain ever is "Oddjob," a dastardly Korean assassin. In a similar vein, Korea's most famed and most widely exported art form, pre-hallyu, was a method of smashing tiles with fists and kicking people in the face.

But these images were all pre-1990s. Today's Korea is surely a brighter, cheerier place?

Not according to recent reports. Two weekends ago, Seoul became a "battleground" as a "violent protest" pitted "anti-government demonstrators" against "legions" of riot cops.

I was downtown that evening, and was bloody annoyed at the obtrusive policing: My office was hemmed in by a mobile fortress-wall of bumper-to-bumper police buses smeared with Vaseline to prevent rabid demonstrators scaling their sides.

Five-O stalked everywhere. Attired menacingly in streamlined black body armor, the constabulary appeared to be spoiling for a medieval battle, hefting Roman-style shields and high-tensile plastic truncheons.

The protesters ― at least their hardcore ― also rolled up ready to rumble. For hand-to-hand combat, they wielded metal pipes. Thinking tactically, some carried step ladders with which to storm the buses, and ropes to drag them away. For defense, many wore rain coats against the high-velocity water jets laced with tear gas, and face masks to prevent identification.

I have not seen a good riot since 2008. Most "demos" I attend these days feature more police then protesters. So I was not expecting much to happen and left.

Zounds! How I misjudged!

A right royal ruckus subsequently kicked off. Journalists milling on the edge of the melee eagerly quoted every curse, gleefully covered every thwack ― one colleague was even decked by a misdirected water jet.

However, news from Seoul that night was overshadowed by far more violent, shocking and lethal events in Paris.

Since, both sides have accused the other of excessive violence. Police have disseminated footage of demonstrators storming and dragging away police buses. Demonstrators point to the high velocity of the water cannons, which blasted people off their feet and washed them down streets.

Yet just 51 people were arrested and one protester seriously injured ― from a demonstration attended by (say police) 68,000 people! Moreover, I have seen no ― zero ― property damage downtown.

This does not indicate that acts of major violence occurred.

Yet 1950-53 Korea was staggeringly horrible: Every veteran remembers piles of civilian corpses, slaughtered by one side or the other. Korean troops, deployed to Vietnam in 1965, were famed for their combat effectiveness but equally notorious for their brutality. In 1980, aggressive airborne rangers ignited the Gwangju massacre.

Yet violence was abating. Observers were astonished at the manic student protests of the 1980s ― but, post-Gwangju, no students were killed while they continued demonstrating until 1987. Then, the "People Power" protests which ushered in democracy were sparked by the murder of a student in police custody, and another who was accidentally killed by a tear-gas grenade.

But most 1980s demonstrations followed unwritten rules few observers were party to. After clashes, police would call the protesters to come and collect personal items abandoned in the scuffle; one protester I knew was released from arrest after threatening to "tell her father."

I am Caucasian, but remained unscathed while walking among anti-American protesters in 2002 (although a friend, a New Zealand pastor, did get thumped, and one GI was stabbed). Likewise, I suffered no violence during the anti-U.S. beef protests of 2008. Nor have I ever heard of any Japanese being injured in Seoul's endless anti-Japanese protests.

Unlike Western cities, no "no-go" zones blot Korean cityscapes. Bar brawls, street fights and violent crimes are incredibly rare. In 16-plus years here, I have suffered just one burglary, and a hood once tried to steal my wife's handbag. Compared to British cities, Seoul feels remarkably safe.

True, Korea suffers a slightly higher homicide rate than the U.K. ― but, a police contact tells me, most murders are "crimes of passion" committed inside families/homes. If anyone is going to physically abuse you, it is most likely someone senior to you in your army unit or office.

In short, you are highly unlikely to suffer physical violence or violent crime at the hands of strangers. Korean disputes can be emotive, loud and abusive (in person and online), but are rarely bruising.

The physical security of its cities is one of Korea's strongest selling points. Regardless of the actions of a handful of demonstrators; regardless of the over-manned riot force maintained by a paranoid government; and regardless of their mutual accusations; Korea is not a violent country.

Andrew Salmon is a Seoul-based reporter and author. Reach him at andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk.