In defense of Korean men: BTS and beyond

Courtesy of Eduard Delputte

David A. Tizzard

Korean men lead a contradictory existence. They are both adored and reviled in seemingly equal measure. Those fascinated by K-pop and K-dramas hold the image that Korean men are tall, sensitive, charming, and dedicated to the point of jealousy and obsession in their love for a single partner. Another view has it that Korean men are little more than f*ck boys, guilty of perpetuating a destructive patriarchy over the country, and their genitals happily mocked online. Both perspectives are, of course, incredibly extreme and they offer little in the way of truth or reality. There’s also a great irony in that those holding the latter wholly negative views see themselves as the most progressive.

For the vast majority of Korean men, those you don’t see in dramas or committing the extreme acts of violence people use to construct damaging generalizations and stereotypes, they are simply just like you and me. They go to school, go to work, pay taxes, watch YouTube, worry about their weight, and pick their nose when no-one is watching. Their values and beliefs, just like ours, are as likely informed by their socio-economic status and upbringing as they are any serious period of self-reflection. They are at once unique individuals and a product of the society that has produced them.

Construction of Korean society

This is also a society that demands a great deal from them. To be a Korean man, to have one’s ethnicity validated, to be seen as a legitimate member of the Korean nation, there is a necessity to obey. While much of the modern world encourages us, demands even, that we pursue our own freedom and choices, that we imagine ourselves happy pushing the boulder up the meaningless nihilistic hill of neoliberal capitalism a la Camus’ Sisyphus, Korean men are told to follow orders. Their time, their space, even their hair, are not theirs. They belong to the nation. A nation that has produced so much that people love, that has resurrected itself from the ashes of war and poverty like the phoenix that adorns the national presidential crest, and yet still carries the trauma and memory of externally imposed scars.

Korea did not ask to be thrust into the international system. It did not want to be colonized by Japan. It did not agree to the line drawn across its land by two American soldiers on a copy of National Geographic in Washington. Yet that line exists to this day and its people grow further apart. Their families, culture, and history divided by the scars of the Cold War. The ideological battle between two opposing camps, each insistent on possessing the sole truth while failing to see their similarity to the other, did not just end in Berlin, Warsaw, or Moscow. It found its way to "the land of the morning calm" and entrenched itself more deeply than perhaps anywhere else. Beijing and London, for example, have the luxury of being on either side of the ideological debate. Here in Korea both sides are present simultaneously and thus the war has not stopped.

When people hear news about the latest K-pop stars being drafted into the Korean Army, they often neglect to understand why they are being drafted in the first place. It is not because of a specific Asian character or idiosyncrasy of Korean politics. It’s quite simply because there are two Koreas, each of which claims legitimacy over the entire land and would like to see their ideological system gain control. If the Korean War (1950-1953) sounds like lifetimes ago, tell that to the Korean men that are still today asked to don their uniform, shave their head, crawl through mud, shoot guns, sleep ten to a room, and go into a tear gas chamber as part of their mandatory training.

Whatever one might think of North Korea, it is heavily armed. Moreover, recent developments in Ukraine and Gaza have shown us not to take any such situation for granted. Pyongyang has thrown its weight behind Moscow and Beijing in this battle. Chairman Kim Jong-un met with Vladimir Putin earlier this year, affirmed their friendship, and then began a mass transfer of arms and other equipment across the Russia-North Korean border in hundreds of unmarked trains. This is not a K-drama, it’s real life. And, it’s only a few kilometers from where I’m currently sitting, high up in the mountains of Gangwon Province. I can see tanks on the road outside.

The leader of BTS knows all this and put it brilliantly in an interview with a Spanish paper: “Korea is a country that has been invaded, exploited and divided in two. It was a country that had nothing 70 years ago. Nowadays, the entire world is looking at Korea. How do you think it was possible? It’s because people are working fu*king hard to improve themselves. France and [the] Britain have colonized other countries for centuries, then tell me, ‘Oh my god, you Koreans put so much pressure on yourselves, life in Korea seems so stressful.’ It’s true. That’s the way we got things done.”

Respecting BTS

That BTS are doing their military service is a good thing. And, I respect them for it. Should I ever meet them, I would thank them more for their national service than the song "Permission to Land." They did not choose to do their military service though. No one does. Very few Korean men want to give up nearly two years of their life to take part in what will likely be mundane and repetitive actions. Just like the five before them, Jimin and Jungkook will download the app on their phone showing how many days of service they have left and watch it slowly count down. They will be bored, frustrated, and indoctrinated into an army more powerful than their own fan base. Dedicated and coordinated streaming practices across multiple devices by devout followers can get you to the top of the charts, but it has little effect on the realities of North Korea’s military threat or the Korean government.

What is most impressive about seeing these chaps perform their service is the message that it sends to the nation: we are all equal. It would have been quite easy for them or their company to argue about how much money they make or the prestige they bring to the country. But finances or fame should not make someone above the law. Whether one earns five bucks an hour in a coffee shop or five million bucks singing songs, all should obey and follow the same law for it to mean anything. This is what all Korean men have in common, whether they are on the left or the right, whether they are handsome or not, whether they are rich or poor, whether they want to get married or stay single, they all have to spend nearly two years of their life serving their country. Such dedication to equality and fairness is genuinely admirable. People will often talk in incredibly disparaging tones about Korea’s rule of law, but in this sense, it works very well. And it sends the correct message to the rest of society.

During a recent interview with a friend who writes for the Washington Times, I tried to emphasize how this was about more than BTS. I mentioned how G-Dragon and Taemin, two incredibly famous performers and often known for their gender-bending expression, both completed their service. How my niece is currently distraught about the four members of Monsta X, particularly Minhyuk, currently doing their own service. That by focusing on BTS we forget the most important thing: that it applies to everyone. To the guy in the convenience store, the man on the subway, and the chap muttering to himself on his smart phone about the rising price of kimbap and difficulty finding somewhere affordable to live in Seoul. The members of BLACKPINK recently signed a contract extension and received MBEs from King Charles III. The members of BTS got given a haircut and a two-year conscription letter. When people write about the increasing presence of international members, as well as AI generated performers in K-pop, they shouldn’t forget about this particular aspect of Korean society and history. Simple capitalism dictates that a Korean man might not always be the best option. Better, in fact, to have someone who looks Korean, or who grew up abroad, and is willing to forgo their citizenship.

In defense of Korean men

It would have been easy for Korea, the military, and the members of BTS to try and find a way to circumnavigate this situation. To say that their hard-earned position puts them above the law and national duty. But they didn’t. And that deserves a lot of respect. It also sends a very powerful message to the rest of society that will, one would hope, have a deep and lasting effect. My brother-in-law is a Lieutenant-Colonel in the military, my nephew will start his service soon, and in about ten years my son will have to do his. On my podcast I recently spoke with three young men I know very well (Park Kyung-hoon, Park Inu, and Lee Seung-il), about their own mandatory military experiences. These are the Korean men I know and respect. And, whatever else might be said about them online, I respect them all and thank them for their service. South Korea is a safe and prosperous country. One of the reasons for that, and why those here sleep peacefully in their beds, is because all Korean men, irrespective of money or fame, serve their nation proudly.

Dr. David A. Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) has a Ph.D. in Korean Studies and lectures at Seoul Women's University and Hanyang University. He is a social/cultural commentator and musician who has lived in Korea for nearly two decades. He is also the host of the Korea Deconstructed podcast, which can be found online.