In Reflection...

Looking back at all the different texts and films we’ve talked about, I think LTWL 190 might have been one of the most illuminating classes I’ve taken in a while. Beforehand, my knowledge of the Korean War and Korean politics, in general, was pretty limited. I basically only knew a few facts about it and was familiar with certain aspects (like the existence of war prostitution and transnational adoption), but it wasn’t until taking this course that I’d ever actually read about the specific circumstances that shaped the war and “post-war” Korea.

Since my concerns are usually around gender, race, and sexuality—or pretty much any social issue that affects people directly and forces us to confront the human cost of institutional power—the most memorable subjects for me were probably the race and gender politics during the war, in post-Korean war society, and in the camptowns. The extent to which we discussed the issue of women being coerced into or just having to resort to sex labor for American GIs was especially eye-opening. As an extension of that, I am glad we were able to engage with the ways global politics and American imperialism played a role in this history because, as an American, it’s something I need to constantly interrogate. But I think Christine engineered the course in such a way that made it impossible to NOT talk about the human and sociopolitical aspects of the Korean War, so everything we discussed seemed to touch upon those issues in some way. Oh, and Memories of My Ghost Brother was my favorite text. It was a fun but moving read and I’m really glad I got to do my presentation on it!

I guess, to end off, I just want to say that I’ll be leaving this class with a more well-informed (but complicated) view of North and South Korea, and definitely a greater interest in them. I think learning about the political and social histories of a certain geographical context always helps me understand that history independently, but also on a global scale. It’s a reminder that we are always implicated in these social, political, and historical entanglements (as Americans, usually in really awful ways), so that’s important to understand and engage with, in my opinion.

I also want to say that I really appreciated the way everyone was able to bring their own interests and unique perspectives to the discussion, because it really made class that much more worthwhile. So thanks for enhancing my experience in the class and I hope you are leaving feeling as fulfilled as I am!

Final Blog and Thoughts

This course offered for me a chance to see the Korean War from multiple perspectives. This enabled me to learn certain "truths" about the Korean War, and about how it has been portrayed ever since. One of these truths, is the real starting date of the Korean War. Look at the above image. "The War Began Here - June 25, 1950"  Not 1945, when America and Russia decided to split Korea in half. Not after America had installed a collaborationist government in South Korea. No, the war is on June 25, 1950, when North Korea supposedly invaded South Korea. Though even that historically is still up for debate.

It is things like this I didn't expect to learn when I signed up for this course. As I said today, learning that the South Korean government was potentially more brutal to it's civilian populace than the "evil" North Korean government never ceased to make me frown. That such news was never really talked about, because it was always better to demonize North Korea, then point out the flaws, apparently. Seeing that America would just turn a blind eye to a dictatorship it had created also disgusted me. This is not the actions of a nation that seeks liberty and freedom for all.

I for one wonder if I will see the reunification of Korea in my lifetime. Most of the civilian populace seem to want it, or at least the ability to travel freely between the two. The fact that it hasn't happened, some sixty years after the Korean War, makes me wonder if it will though. And if it does happen, will it be peaceful, or through war? The biggest question though is how much will America be involved? I for one hope that it isn't involved at all. Because American involvement is what divided Korea in the first place. How would Americans like it if some foreign power came in and split our nation in half? Drew a line and said you cannot pass this mark?

Overall I enjoyed the course because it exposed some ugly truths that no amount of hand waving will hide. I would like to thank my class mates for adding to a fun, and learning  environment. Special thanks to Professor Hong for making the course so entertaining, and I look forward to seeing most of you next quarter.

Repatriation --> Reunification?

One moment in Kim Dong Won’s film A Repatriation almost gave me chills. (It wasn’t the adorable scene on the beach -- I just wanted to post that image).  Do you remember when one of the grandpas answered his phone in the middle of the night?  The person on the other side of the line was congratulating him because the possibility of repatriation had become a reality.  Instead of the joyful outburst one might be expect, the grandpa answered with (or something to the effect of): “It’s not about being about to go to the North, it’s about being able to come and go as we please.”  I thought that this statement really incapsulated the underlying argument for a reunified Korea.  The right to live in the Korea of your choosing is surely an achievement, but the real problem is that people are being forced to choose in the first place.  

This issue echoes the “choice” that Chinese POWs had to make at the end of the hot war, as we saw in War Trash.  Chinese prisoners who chose Taiwan were forever tarnished by this decision, and were prevented from ever going back home.  They could not move freely between countries allied with the U.S. and countries allied with China.  They had one chance to choose and afterwards they would forever be separated by barriers of enmity.  Likewise, I got the feeling that the grandpas would probably never have the opportunity to visit South Korea after their repatriation, and if they did, it would only be under exceptional circumstances.  As they were leaving, they almost didn’t even dare to hope that letter communication could be maintained with their loved-ones in the south.  This is an absurd notion, when you consider that the geographic distance between the two capitols is so negligible.

In an attempt to better understand why “going and coming” is so out of the question for even the most respected Korean citizens, I did a little bit of research.  I was curious to see what contemporary scholars are saying about the possibility of reunification.  I was trying to avoid obviously biased sources, like those from the U.S. or nations in close proximity to the Koreas.  One scholar, Wojciech Stankiewicz, published an article in 2012 through the University of Warmia and Mazury in Poland (http://dspace.uni.lodz.pl:8080/xmlui/bitstream/handle/11089/1063/05-stank.pdf?sequence=1).  The article outlines three potential scenarios in which the reunification of Korea might be possible.  Some of the assumptions of war start and end dates and general impressions of North Korea are clearly questionable, but I think it’s interesting that the author tries to imagine what reunification would look like in various situations.

The first model is described as: 

“ . . . peaceful integration. This can be perceived as the most optimistic scenario, but in fact, it would be extremely difficult to perform. That kind of inter-Korean development would involve steps like: an initial acceptance of the status quo by the two Koreas and by four major powers which are the United States, China, Russia and Japan . . . What is more, a mutual recognition of that model would be indispensable. The next step would involve a formal peace treaty ... The integration itself, would entail levelling of each countries policy, which are completely different. Cooperation on economic level with limited political and social integration is required” (67).  

The second model discussed is: “ . . . unification through default assumes a state failure in North Korea and an abrupt unification of absorption. This view 

was particularly popular during the late 1980s and early 1990, with the 

end of Cold War and widening of a yawning gap between the North and 

South economic development. The general steps in the collapse scenario 

begin from some kind of triggering event” (69).

The final model is “often referred to as the ”worst” end of spectrum. 

Unification in that context would be an effect of war. This could be, 

hypothetically, a repeat of the North invasion of the South, as happened 

in 1950. Such similar action is rather not possible, because the US-ROK 

alliance is very strong and this would be a suicidal action undertaken by 

the North” (70).  

Stankiewicz concludes the article on a pessimistic note.  “Throughout the 1990s, enthusiasm for Korean reunification predictions has faded due to the resilience of the North regime. Although the underlying assumption of reunification remains, forecasts of when and how this will occur have been more restrained. Even the death of Kim Jong Il will not bring changed to domestic and  foreign policy as 

North Korea is going to continue adopt an aggressive approach toward 

the South. In summary, in the short-term reunification is definitely not in 

the interest of the current ROK administration, and the South has no 

intention of encouraging it” (72).

It will probably be a very long time before “going and coming” is possible.  In an interview with Cindy Yoon of The Asia Society, Kim Dong Won says that reunification is not considered as crucial an issue as it was in the past.  When asked about the younger generation’s concern for the issue, he replies: “There is not as much hatred for North Korea, but I think there isn't as much concern about them. Young people are not so interested in that problem. Some say they don't want to reunify because it will be too costly. North Koreans are poor and they don't want to have that burden” (http://asiasociety.org/arts/film/kim-dong-wons-film-north-korean-prisoners-held-south-korea).  I wonder if the time spent under U.S. occupation is causing South Koreans to forget.  If the Cold War was about winning over hearts and minds, U.S. capitalist imperialism certainly seems to have hastened South Korea’s process of forgetting the vital cause that so many Koreans feel to strongly about.  They don't want the "burden" that an influx of "poor" Northerners would put on the South Korean economy.  Are the family ties that bound the two Koreas severed beyond repair?  Perhaps the desire for economic success in the international arena in partly to blame.

--Sarah T.

The Photo-shoot Continues

"The immediate response among the soldiers to the miserable plight of orphaned children was a whole mixture of evacuations, fundraising drives for food and clothing, the setting up of orphanages, and, most importantly, the spontaneous incorporation of children into care at military bases as regimental mascots, houseboys or interpreters. In many cases, these relationships developed into a kind of informal adoption" (Hubinette 278).

        My immediate reaction to this picture is to take this as proof that the US Military really cares about the welfare of civilian life during times of war. But this is probably what the journalist that wrote the blurb beneath it wanted to communicate to the American public. There is obviously a hint of propaganda in this image that is attempting to hold or gain support for the military and its involvement in Korea. The more critical side of me takes this as a "puff piece" with a purpose. Clearly, the deliberate language choice of the phrase  tiny tots is attempting to inspire an emotional response. Thus, the military comes off as humanitarian and urges us (the public) to believe that they really do mean well. I now look at this image and wonder if the GIs in this picture are responsible for the orphaning of these children. I wonder why the GIs in this picture are all black. I'm curious as to what will happen to these children when and if these GIs are killed in action, after all they are gunners. How are these children going to be kept safe if these GIs cannot guarantee their own safety? Are these children really orphaned or just separated from their families?

        Knowing what  know now, this photo inspires more questions than answers and inspires me with more anxiety than security. Frankly, I consider their other actions (fundraising drives and the setting up of orphanages) to be more successful and helpful over all. What these children need is the surroundings of their own country and the support of the US. Domestic adoption should be the goal for the welfare of these children. Even now, the rate of international adoption is higher, hence this picture:

        This is a fairly recent Vogue related campaign aimed at promoting more domestic adoptions. Though this picture is a great deal later than the first and the orphans in the second are not war orphans, these pictures are not entirely unrelated. The differences are evident but the similarities are striking. Both are using a similar technique to promote adoptions. In each, the "models" (GIs and an all-girl Pop group) are using their influence to persuade others to support their cause. Even still, international adoptions trump the number of domestic adoptions and that can be directly linked to the history of Korean orphan adoptions which had its major start with the Korean War. Thus, the first picture actually inspired the second. And this is only one of the many attempts to promote more domestic adoption.

        "Tax reductions were provided to encourage domestic adoption, which was projected to grow by 400-600 placements a year... At the same time, the government has encouraged domestic adoption, which, by the end of the 1990's stood for one-third of all adoptions. Also, since the end of the economic crisis, the government has strived to create a long term foster care system based on Western models as an alternative to adoption" (Hubinette 286).

These facts are relatively old but the facts remain, more or less, the same, hence the need for this Vogue campaign.



Gift Culture/Theft Culture

Before I write my closing post (and since I have missed a few), I wanted to talk about Jane Jeong Trenka’s piece, Fugitive Visions, first. I think that was probably one of the most interesting reads of the quarter for me because it so creatively confronts a lot of the issues we’ve been talking about by bringing to the forefront their relationship to identity and transnational adoption.

Trenka shows how global politics, power structures, and the Korean War impact the lives of Koreans now, from reproducing something as systematic and life-altering as transnational adoption to perpetuating racism and cultural appropriation.

It’s difficult to focus on any one topic because she writes about so much: alienation via language, culture, race, and gender; (un)belonging to a community; being torn from her origins, forced to assimilate into a new culture and not have the chance to even acknowledge that divide; fetishization by her (white) ex-husband; sexual violence, and more that I am probably forgetting. One thing that is always a backdrop to all of this, though, is the relations between Korea and the U. S. Trenka names them as “gift culture” and “theft culture,” respectively (76). I was thinking of how apt this description is—and not just in the Korean context—because the U.S. has such strong ties to the colonial project of stealing from and exploiting other countries for gain, while those places must constantly relinquish their own culture, politics, and people in order to even survive. 

I was thinking of the ways we (the U.S.) have, among other things, unrightfully pillaged colonized countries for artifacts that we now display in museums for American viewing pleasure, how we appropriate bits of cultures, transforming them and caricaturing the people they belong to for our own entertainment or profit, and still we and our culture are thriving, while colonized countries have gradually been forced to give up more and more (esp. language) in order to assimilate into a system we have forced onto them. This is as big as having to compete in global economics to as personal as internalizing racism and white superiority.

Trenka leaves reminders of these dynamics throughout her piece, particularly when it comes to race, language, and even food. But it’s easy to tie to the camptowns and the ways that Korean women have been a part of this theft. It reminded me of the documentary we watched, The Women Outside, and how these women have had to give up nearly everything to Americans in order to make a living. The scene showing the classes that teach Korean women how to be American housewives, in particular, is a perfect example of identity erasure and assimilation into something consumable by American men. It is colonist thievery and violence that tears these women away from their culture both physically and socially. But the misnomer of “gift culture” is a tragic reminder that this is not really an act of willful giving, but of taking that is so normalized that those on the receiving end feel entitled to it and have the power to demand it, so that giving becomes the only option, as if it was always only a charitable act of gifting from the beginning.

Closing Thoughts - Adoption Surprises & Problems

 I have learned a lot about Korea and the Korean War that I otherwise wouldn't have known if I hadn't taken this class, but an eye-opening moment for me was reading and watching the material related to the topic of adoptions. I still find the idea of "social death" that Cho and Kim bring up very surprising. I didn't realize that such a negative stigma would also be placed on the child when s/he is biracial. It is also very surprising that transnational adoption connects into the camptown of the Korean War, so it has become the birthplace of the "war orphans" who are sent overseas to America.

But the other side to this is how not all adoptions connect into the "social death" of the camptown, but instead it's disadvantaged mothers and families who can no longer hold onto and care for their children. But in a sense they still become associated with a negative stigma. And like we saw in Deann Borshay's film, many adoption agencies lie about the children's history in order to create a "perfect template" for the American families. I still find this shocking, so it makes it that much harder for these adoptees to return to Korea and search for their birth mothers and families. But most likely the government didn't want these children to return, as soon as they left Korea, it meant a "clean break" and a new identity in America or some other country. And as Borshay's film shows, many what-ifs become attached to the adoptee's new identity once they reach America. So that means they are forever left wondering, but they can't completely return to Korea even if they do go back because they were raised in a different society that doesn't mesh with the beliefs and ideologies of Korea. The people who return can try to learn about their birth culture, but as Jane Trenka wrote, "I was never supposed to return. And I was never supposed to know the word jeong" (15). But she can use this idea and feeling of "Korean togherness" to a certain degree to go against people who "insist upon her foreignness," but it will not work entirely because she didn't learn about this idea until later in her life. I think the idea of "jeong" is full culturally specific meanings that can only be fully understood if you were raised in the Korean society. So this means that Jane and other adoptees can try to use "jeong" in their defense as not being a part of Korea, but they cannot completely embody this feeling in their lives.

Challenging Cycles of Aggression: Closing Thoughts

“I was born from a dream, and now I will fly into the heavens, to the West, into another dream; and if I am awake now, perhaps I shall sleep and wake again to dream this new dream with my mother and my sister.” (Fenkl 271)

In the closing lines of Memories of My Ghost Brother, Fenkl recounts his thoughts about returning to America.  The final sentence of the book creates a bridge with the first portion of the book, replacing linear temporality with circular temporality, and mirroring the cycle of trauma and grieving.  Through these circular structures, Fenkl attempt to make sense of the relationship between Korea and the U.S.  When I was thinking about what to write for my final blog entry, I thought about this circular structure Fenkl had explored in his memoir.

When I read about North Korea cutting of the Red Cross hotline with South Korea, I thought about how far North and South Korea were from reconciliation, especially because of the U.S. presence in South Korea.  North Korea cutting off the Red Cross line could be a response to excessive sanctions, the U.S. involvement in Korea, and the U.S. politicization of food aid; this deepens the divide between North and South Korea, escalating the cycle of aggression between the two countries.  This cycle reminded me of the cyclical structure of narrative in Memories of My Ghost Brother, which moves back and forth in time, slowly escalating.  Unless the U.S. withdraws troops from South Korea, these colonial cycles of violence from the camptowns to the government, which are social, economic, and political, will continue for another sixty years.  By questioning the media’s skewed portrayal of North Korea, petitioning the government, and educating more people about what happened in the Korean War, we can begin to challenge this cycle of aggression.

I found this petition to end the Korean War and withdraw U.S. troops from South Korea on the National Campaign to End the Korean War website.  I strongly feel that it should have WAY more than 528 signatures.

One Influences The Other

In reading the article The Unending Korean War: A Conversation With Kim Dong-Choon I became made more aware of how...interconnected, for lack of a better word, North and South Korea are to each other. The situation is similar to the two sides of the same coin theory. Kim Dong-Choon comments on this, in how South Korea's "hostile and aggressive policy" toward North Korea made North Korea have an equally "aggressive and belligerence stance" to South Korea. Yet, when South Korea was more open toward North Korea, then North Korea wasn't as hostile to South Korea. This back and forth relationship stems from the problem that South and North Korea were part of the same county, but were split by warfare, different political views and backings.

The Korean War created an unwinnable situation by either side. The governments of both largely refused to cooperate with the other. Civilians who questioned the governments on their methods were labeled as "pro-North Korean" or "pro-South Korean." To question was view as near heresy. The South Korean "ruling bloc" as Kim Dong-Choon calls them, used the external threat of North Korean invasion to maintain its brutal ruling position. Because of this need to rule through fear, South Korea often used state violence, military coups, and the massacring of civilians to maintain power. North Korea by contrast appeared to be able to rule its people without the use of fear, or merciless suppressant, despite it being painted by South Korea and America as a brutal and harsh government.

Something else I found to be interesting in the article was Christine Hong's question to Kim Dong-Choon about America being the party of forgetting in South Korea. Kim Dong-Choon answer to this question was an oddity. To actively "forget" South Korea had to be, in essence, the party of memory. South Korea had to keep the memory of who, and what they fought, alive to be able to be a part of the "party of forgetting." South Korea had to keep the memory of an inhuman foe, and the signification of the "enemy" alive. In this way South Korea could "forget" the violent anti-communist activities that happened "before, during, and after the Korean War." Keeping this memory of the "enemy" alive enabled South Korea to rule with such a hard hand, by keeping the civilian populace in constant fear of the invading North Koreans. Kim Dong-Choon points out that following the 1990s election of civilian governments, South Korea has begun to recognize that an attack by North Korea is actually quite small.

The reunification of North and South Kora will not be an easy thing. Neither government really trusts the other, especially so long as America holds a military presence in South Korea. Yet, the similarities between the two nations are undeniable, because they are one and the same. The biggest difference, is the politics. If the politics can be worked out, then reunification is possible. Families which have for generations been divided might be able to freely see each other again. Should America continue to aid in holding these two nations apart, or simply let them rejoin of their own accord?

              The documentary that we only watched the beginning of on Tuesday implicates the American Military Industrial Complex for continuing the colonial diaspora of Koreans. The Women, the Orphan and the Tiger (2010) explains the Korean adoption epidemic as a biopolitical tool of a military apparatus. In the documentary the adoptee narrator explains, "What comes through the process of search is the way in which the birth mothers bodies have been mobilized to produce adoptees"(18 minutes Jin/Guston). To consider mobilizing birth mothers for production frames Korean War orphans as a commodified product from an exploited labor force. The unequal relationship with Korea after War Two creates an American mentality in which Americans believe it is their responsibility to raise Korean children. This mentality causes the creation of an unprecedented international adoption industry.
 

         America reminisces the Japanese colonial power by controlling the Korean diaspora after World War two. The conception of the American adoption industry can be traced back to the Korean War. Historian Tobias Hubinette points out that practices of western aid including hospitals and orphanages “were tested in Korea for the first time… inhibiting the development of its own social welfare system”(Hubinette 278). Giving economic incentive to the funding of orphanages, the American presence disallowed the establishment of basic welfare services to help poor children succeed in Korea.  Adoption became the go-to option. Halting the colonial diaspora is a crucial factor in decolonizing. In continuing and transforming the colonial diaspora of Koreans, the United States has maintained a colonial presence on the peninsula long after the official end of the Korean War in 1953.

A State of Mind

The BBC made a documentary about the North Korean Mass games, which I remember was the first thing to spark my interest in taking this course.  It is a very different experience to watch the film now that I have a better understanding of the context surrounding the issues that this film presents.  It may be a little bit out-dated now, but you may still find it interesting.  Although it certainly gives us a Western perspective, I couldn't help noticing some contrasts between this film and the "undercover" piece with Lisa Ling that we saw in class.  For one, our reporter is much less invasive -- only appearing in the voice-over, rather than physically in the scene itself.  I've posted a link to the clip that specifically addresses the Korean War, but the whole film can be found in ten pieces on YouTube.

After the part about the Korean War (which is only a few minutes long), we see some footage of the Mass Games and our narrator tells us about the ideology behind them.  It seems to me that for the children portrayed in the film, "The Great Leader" or "The General" isn't just a reference to individual political leaders, but also serves as a reflexive reference back to themselves. These girls actively participate in the Mass Games, and just like the other 80,000 gymnasts, understand that their individual role in the mass spectacle is crucial to its success.  Individuals are not lost in numbers (as the protagonist of War Trash suggests), but are celebrated parts of a bigger whole (which would not be whole without them).

--Sarah T.

7 ways to get "serious" about North Korea

I read this opinion piece on CNN.com over the weekend and was very disturbed by its warmongering tone. Its title, "Seven ways to get serious with North Korea" underlines its farcical nature, as its suggestions ignore the sovereignty of nations and disrespect the Korean peninsula as a whole. What's so frustrating about this article is that it completely removes North Korean-US relations from any sort of historical context, portraying North Korea's grievances with the US as completely baseless and random.

The author's first "way to get serious" is to "Park an aircraft carrier off the coast of North Korea and engage in regular and sustained bilateral and multilateral naval exercises."

I really hope the author could imagine what it would be like if North Korea and, lets say, Mexico, performed naval exercises off the California coast so he could understand why this is such an egregiously provocative act. Besides the fact that the US already performs frequent naval exercises off the coast of North Korea, "regular and sustained" naval exercises off the North Korean coast are some of the most reactionary and incendiary policies that the US could engage in.

Another ridiculous point on this list is #4, which proclaims that a serious way to treat a country that we almost bombed to oblivion in the 1950s, is to "Re-designate North Korea as a state sponsor of terror."

Besides doing nothing to warrant such a re-designation, the overall tone of this statement, and the entire article in general, is one of incredulity. The unwillingness to acknowledge that we have done anything wrong in our relations with North Korea since the 1950s is the main thing standing between normalizing relations between our two countries. Articles like this that ignore the fact that we are still at war with North Korea and unwilling to sign a peace treaty are even more out of touch than the North Korean regime they deride. The most disturbing aspect of this article is that it was on the front page of one of the most popular news websites in the country.

The list is full of other absurd proposals, like #5 which suggests we use satellites and stealth aircraft to "track Kim Jong-un's movements," and "Provide any imagery to the press."

Dennis Rodman's Visit to North Korea

On Friday, Time magazine posted this article about Dennis Rodman's visit to North Korea with the Harlem Globetrotters.  In this article, Ishaan Tharoor provides a very conventional, biased view of North Korea, quoting Christopher Hitchens saying that North Korea is a country full of "racist dwarfs."  Tharoor also conceals the U.S.'s politicization of food aid through a linguistic sleight of hand, using a passive voice to defer the U.S's agency.  When I first read this article, a few minutes after it was posted, the title of Tharoor's fifth point read: "5. North Korea’s not just a mafia state—it’s a FASCIST, RACIST state." "Fascist and racist" were written in all caps and underlined, an attempt to make the state more emotionally visceral for the reader and emphasize the the dangerousness of North Korea. It also made the article sound juvenile; typically, Time magazine does not rely on this excess of metalinguistic emotion in their articles.  A few hours later, the article was edited, and "fascist" and "racist" were changed to lowercase, and the underlining was removed, making the article appear a little more emotionally detached from the subject.  I think this reflects the U.S.'s hostility towards North Korea in a very interesting way, because it hints at the existence of violent aggression beneath the façade of cool logic.

For the sake of this blog post, I wanted to focus specifically on the deferral of agency in Tharoor's article.  Tharoor writes:

2. North Korea keeps its starving people hostage to its belligerent nuclear policies. The international community, including the U.S., has offered hundreds of thousands of tons of food aid to Pyongyang. But the aid has been stymied by bargaining over North Korea’s illicit nuclear weapons program—in 2009, for example, shipments were stalled after Pyongyang decided to test a rocket. This month’s recent underground nuclear blast, the country’s third, makes diplomacy even harder.

Tharoor proposes that North Korea is starving its people despite the generosity of the U.S.  He says that the U.S. aid "has been stymied" and "shipments were stalled" after North Korea tested a rocket.  So who stymied the aid and who stalled the shipments?  If you read this article, you wouldn't know.  If you read the article that Tharoor linked to from USA Today, you might not catch it.  It's the U.S.  One could argue that, actually, the U.S. is holding North Korea hostage by using food aid as an incentive for denuclearization.  Ironically (as we discussed in class), the U.S. has conducted 1,054 nuclear tests while North Korea has just completed its third.  This reveals the incredibly asymmetrical power dynamic between the U.S. and North Korea, which is further deepened by the U.S. media's portrayal of North Korea as a dangerous hermit kingdom.  Between this politicization of food aid and excessive sanctions, North Korea's resources are limited by outside powers.  But in this article, Tharoor absolves the U.S. of all blame, instead demonizing North Korea and, through association, Dennis Rodman.

What's a Tank?

In reading Ahn Junghyo's article A Double Exposure of the War, I got a taste of something rare. I got to taste war with a child's innocence's. I then got to see this child grow up, and become a soldier in a different war. But both wars had the same foreigners hands involved. America.

For Ahn Junghyo the communists of North Korea were greeted as liberators. He didn't really understand why. Then Americans arrived. They too were greeted as liberators. Junghyo like these foreigners. They gave out candy, helped immunize them to diseases, and were like Santa Clause. Yet, these Santa Clauses had the women hiding in fear. To Junghyo, this must have been some sort of game. But we know the truth. The Americans raped many Korean women in their efforts to "liberate" Korea. Something North Korea and Chinese forces tried not to do.

Then Junghyo became involved in Vietnam, and things got interesting. Korean forces largely felt they were doing what America did in the Korean War: liberate. But as Junghyo points out, maybe they imitated Americans too well, because Korean forces did rape in Vietnam. Koreans were drunk on the belief that they were like the invincible heroes of old. This idea also caused the Koreans to feel they never lost in Vietnam. Americans did sure, but not Koreans.

Here is the funny thing about war. What you may have fought someone to the death over in the past, wont necessarily make you their enemy in the future. That is what Junghyo learns upon his return to Vietnam twenty six years after he was in combat there. The communist "enemies" are in control of the country. Yet, he is treated like a friend. Someone who would have been shooting at most of the people he was sitting down drinking or eating with. Is it any wonder that Junghyo is confused?

Ahn Junghyo's final statement I find to be accurate, not only in a historical sense, but also as a current one. Here is a piece of his statement:

"War is futile; the enemy of yesterday does not remain an enemy forever. War is not flags of glory but waste filled with suffering and pain. It is fundamentally a human sickness camouflaged by the intricate workings of international interests and a beguiling rhetoric of abstract concepts" (Ahn 276).

The Confluence of Heinz Insu

In my reading of Memories of My Ghost Brother, my mind keeps circling back to the idea that Heinz Insu is a meeting place between two cultures. I should state this comes from my Havc. 80 class where the past lectures have been about composite cultures, but more specifically the Andean belief system of complementarity. I think Insu ties into this because he represents the connection between the European and Korean cultures, so in Andean terms he shows a "tinku," or a confluence and conjoing of complements. Even his name shows this because it is both a European and Korean name. The Andean belief system is very different than our own binary system where we don't have complements. The conjoining & coming together of complements and "hybridity" are viewed as powerful, so it is beneficial for Insu to be of two cultures. However, in this story, the binary system is more apparent so it shows how Insu can't fit into either of his cultures perfectly, he is an outsider. This gives Insu an interesting look into his world, but I think he stands out even more in his "father's world," when he first goes to American school because he doesn't has a full grasp on English. It didn't help Insu belong when then the school made the rule that they can only speak English while in school, which isn't right because they are taking away part of his inherent identity. I think this connects back into our binary system where English is viewed as the most important, so it comes at the cost of the second half of someone's identity. What right does the school have to say that the children aren't allowed to speak their native language? I mean, they need it in everyday life when they are not in school, so in the end it is still an important language that gives the Koreans more of an advantage. But even the fact that Insu thinks of the American school as his "father's world" and that he's "only trying to get by" shows that he is not as comfortable in this world as he is within the world he grew up in, even if he didn't quite fit-in in that world either (121). But he is still able to transition between his two worlds to make them both important parts of his everyday life, so he then enacts the idea of "tinku" between his two cultural identities. And if he is between these two cultures and identities, it would give him power in the Andean belief system.

Unwelcome Home

At first, I felt that the transition from reading War Trash to Home was a little bit rocky.  But looking back on my notes from the last couple of weeks, I’m actually seeing some pretty stark connections between these two protagonists’ dilemmas.  They both fought on what turned our to be an illegitimate “second front.”  

For Frank Money, the Korean War might be interpreted as a second front in America’s struggle against racism.  He tells us that Home is worse than the battlefield he faced in Korea, because at least in battle there is something to strive for -- “some chance of winning,” while in Lotus “there was no future . . . nothing to win” (83).  This might be interpreted as the illusion of upward mobility that many African-American integrated servicemen were led to believe in during the Korean War.  The chapter of Our Fight that we read explains this at length, and goes as far as to say that “when African Americans managed to secure promotions, they felt that they had beaten the odds and rejoiced that they had won ‘a battle in the continuing war against Jim Crow’” (171).  But as we saw in Home, the awards and promotions earned on the battlefield abroad failed to translate back in the U.S.  The medal that Frank won helped him evade the police once, but in general, he was not treated any more respect than when he left to go fight.  It was for this reason that some Americans, like Clarence Adams, decided not to return “home” after being released from POW camps.

Yuan from Ha Jin’s War Trash has a surprisingly similar struggle.  In his case, however, it is not race, but political ideology that separates him from most Chinese citizens.  In class we talked about the POW camps acting as a “second front” for the Korean War -- battles were waged and agreements made within them.  But when the troops returned to China, they were not given recognition by the Communist Party.  The narrator says: “In other words, he and we had all been chessmen on the Party’s board, though Pei had created his own board and placed his men on it as if his game had been identical with the Party’s.  In fact he too had been a mere pawn, not much different from any of us.  He too was war trash” (345).  Although it seemed that Pei’s actions in the camp were synonymous with Communist ideology, his accomplishments were ignored back in China and he was treated with distrust by the very people helped tried to support.  So in this case, like in Home, the second front turns out to be illegitimate.  Our narrator tells us, “... if only I had foreseen that home was no longer the same place.  Then at any cost I would have gone to a third country, where I could have lived as a countryless man . . .” (344).  For Yuan and Frank, Home is unwelcoming and they face it with many regrets.  This certainly tarnishes the popular portrayal of wars and the treatment of their veterans back home.

--Sarah T.

New South Korean President

South Korea's new president, Park Geun-hye, was sworn in today in front of over 70,000  people in Seoul.  Ostensibly she is a newcomer to Korean politics, but since she is the daughter of former South Korean dictator, Park Chung-hee, she has never been far from the Korean spotlight.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/feb/25/park-geun-hye-korean-president

This article from The Guardian describes her inaugural address, and quotes the new president proclaiming, "I will not tolerate any action that threatens the lives of our people and the security of the nation. I urge North Korea to abandon its nuclear ambitions without delay and embark on the path to peace and shared development."

This quote verbatim would not seem out of place had it been said by President Obama or a US diplomat. Regardless of what your views on nuclear proliferation are, comments like this infringe on the sovereignty of governments, as they proclaim what others can and can't have. The exact same tone is used when the US denounces Iran's nuclear program.

This article also brings in the North Korean perspective on the inauguration. Unlike the majority of the Western media, it cites a legitimate  North Korean grievance with South Korea and the US, writing, "North Korean state media marked her inauguration with a warning to the US and the South not to proceed with forthcoming military drills."

I think this article does a good job of placing Park Geun-hye's election and inauguration in historical context, as it also discusses her father's "brutal suppression of opponents during 18 years of rule that began with a military coup in 1961."

Questioning Freedom

Chef: You ever heard of the Emancipation Proclamation?
General: I don't listen to hip-hop!

Today's discussion had me remember the above image from South Park.  In this scene black soldiers were to be used as "human shields" to protect the white troops from getting shot. While this is fictional, I couldn't but help think of black servicemen questioning their role in the Korean War.

When you are denied freedoms at home, how can you fight for "freedom" somewhere else? This seems logical doesn't it? Yet, to question is to be labeled a communist sympathizer. If blacks are in the U.S.  and they questioned they could be outright killed. Its a no win situation. The Korean War made this even more obvious in the racism that was evident in the army. The Red Cross labeled blood based on race. MacArthur did nothing to stop the racism which divided the army. Blacks were often given jobs which were beneath their training and intelligence.

The morale of blacks in the army sunk. Rightfully so. To be segregated in your home state, then to be desegregated in the army, is giving blacks a sense of freedom. This sense of freedom is destroyed the moment a black veteran returns to the America. Black veterans who have risked their lives don't want to give up their freedom. Why should they? Because their skin isn't white? Because they are potentially descended from  slaves? Because they have faced death, rape, being robbed? This is nothing new to blacks, especially during the 1950s Jim Crow laws.

I would also like to point out that in the film The Steel Helmet, the North Korean officer asks the black medic how can he fight for the whites, when he faces such racism at home and in the army. He then goes on to ask the Japanese American how he too can fight for the whites despite how the whites of America treated his people during WWII, specifically putting them in internment camps.

It is questions like these which really raises the question: Is America fighting for freedom?

One of my other courses this quarter is Worldings with Cooppan, and the main topic we are going over is the idea of the network. One of our recent readings was Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson, which is a dystopian portrait of a capitalist future, in which the country is basically run by corporations, and another plane of existence exists through the internet, in a place known as the Metaverse. One of the lifeforms that has appeared in this futuristic society is a "Rat Thing," and in class, we discussed how the  Rat Things are characterized more by what makes them not a rat than their one rat-like feature. "The body is Rottweiler-sized, segmented into overlapping hard plates like those of a rhinoceros. The legs are long, curled way up to deliver power, like a cheetah's. It must be the tail that makes people refer to it as a Rat Thing, because that's the only ratlike part - incredibly long and flexible" (Stephenson 94). Mandogi's case is that he is known for his personal decision to remain a temple hand rather than going out and creating an identity for himself in the world outside of the temple. So, networks function differently for the two.

Mandogi could be seen as a connection within a network, rather than a node, which the Rat Thing would be an example of. Whereas the Rat Thing gains its identity from all of the things which it is not but is compared to, I found that Mandogi, both before and after death, helped build a network. Mandogi's tale served as a form of inspiration for the other subaltern members of South Korean society at the time. But, at the same time, Mandogi can be seen as a node because the people he inspires are all connected by the idea of this one man, whose story reaches people on many levels because of his lack of solid identity.

In the same way that I question, "Why is it a 'Rat Thing,'" I wonder, "Why is it Mandogi?"

War: Death of Pawns

 
 Our discussion today brought up a topic which I have thought of before about war. War destroys lives, be it soldier or civilian. The above image I feel appeals to this, because the pawns have their graves already dug and filled before a match event starts. The pawns (soldiers) are sacrificed for the ideals and beliefs of the ones in power. The death tolls (in their horrific amounts) that are created by war are told in numbers. They are not told through images or stories about the common suffering of both soldier or civilians.

"The larger a victory is, the more people have been turned into numerals. This is the crime of war: it reduces real human beings to abstract numbers" (Ha Jin, 193).

This is abhorrently true. Each number lost in a battle is a single human life. That life has its own memories, beliefs, friends and family. But that life is now reduced to a little insignificant number to be shipped home in a body bag.  That life, I feel is also offered little choice in the matter of war. Yu Yuan is an example of this, in that the politic of the Korean War matter little to him. Yet he is conscripted as a "volunteer" and given little choice in the matter. Following his capture and becoming a POW he simply wants to go home. In talking with Father Woodworth Yuan learns that according to Woodworth any communist is considered evil by the U.S. Yuan points out that many Chinese soldiers are only communists because they want to return home. Woodsworth responds with "I understand it's a tough choice, but life is full of choices." Yuan counters with "For most of us there's no choice" (Ha Jin, 81). 

As human society has evolved, so has war. War has become so technical that it has reduced human life to numbers. The larger the number, the more one side is "winning." The ability to  make choices is also impacted, in that during war, personal rights are nullified. POW's are massacred and leaders among them are labeled as "war criminals." War is the the great destroyer, yet it is human beings that make war possible.

"Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power. We have guided missiles and misguided men." (Martin Luther King, Jr.)

Is there anything left to sanction in North Korea?

Foreign Policy Magazine posted an article on their website today entitled "Is there anything left to sanction in North Korea?"   I found this quote particularly interesting:

The 800-pound gorilla in the debate about the effectiveness of any sanctions is China. By the end of 2010, the last date for which there are records, China's trade with North Korea had boomed, surpassing $3.06 billion, up nearly 10 percent over 2008, according to figures cited by a U.N. panel monitoring enforcement of the North Korea sanctions.

At the conclusion of the article, George Lopez, a professor of peace studies at Notre Dame University, said that the sanctions would be more effective if China enforced them, and that the U.S. needs to convince China that they won't cause the downfall of the North Korean economy by enforcing the sanctions.  I thought this was a strange thing to say, since enforcing all the sanctions target the North Korean economy.

Music in North Korea

In the spirit of Callum's post, and given the significance of music/song in The Guest, I wanted to share an article with you about changes in the musical repertoire of North Korea's orchestras.  Earlier this year the BBC interviewed a German conductor who has traveled and performed in North Korea on multiple occasions and has worked with musicians in Pyongyang.  He says that the city has changed dramatically since 2006, becoming more open to western culture. I thought his comments on the musical changes were especially intriguing:

"North Korean musicians are desperate for repertoire. The whole of 20th Century music is unknown territory. So we brought a piece by Witold Lutoslawski, who will be celebrating his 100th birthday next year. And we also brought music from 250 years ago - a Haydn symphony.  The university students copied out their parts from the music through the night on the day of our arrival. This is what they have done on all my previous visits. The music from those visits has now found its way into their curriculum - Tchaikovsky, Brahms, Stravinsky."

For me, this article had a lot of problematic moments like the one quoted above.  The conductor obviously had a lot of preconceptions about the music/musicians in Pyongyang, as you might detect in his patronizing tone.  The full article can be found here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-20773542

I tried to find a recording of the concert that the German and Pyongyang orchestras did together, but couldn’t.  So instead, I found a North Korean channel on YouTube (uriminzokkiri) that features a few musical performances.  Here is a link to one that sounds like more traditional, non-western music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9yVowqiAOK4

I have no idea the significance of this piece, or its origins.  But I think it might be interesting to pursue the kinds of musical performances taking place today in North Korea, and their connection to western influence.

--Sarah T.

An everlasting ghost

I find Mandogi's ending up as a "ghost" ironic because he was able to get the last say even though he was "only a temple hand" in real life. Mandogi's good actions upon other people was not as recognized in life as something for other people to aspire to, but instead people were confused by these actions. Which lead to them making fun of him, but once he turned into a ghost, rumors of his good deeds spread. Mandogi ending up as a ghost is also ironic because these rumors spread, but they included snippets of actual events in Mandogi's life. Like, "refusing to point the gun at the partisan in the substation" even if it lead to what they believed was his execution (114).

Mandogi may have been nothing much in real life, but his ghost stories turned him into a kind of legend for the people. The ghost stories allowed this 'nobody' to turn into something more that will transcend his eventual death. In the end he turned into an inspiration for people who would not have thought of him as such in real life. I like the part about his ghost stories being "put away for safekeeping in the people's bag of stories" because it means he will continue being an inspiration for other people (114). It shows that he matters, and that there was something about him that other people were able to relate to. Or otherwise, ghost stories would not have been created around him. It works best for a 'nobody' to become a ghost and have rumors begin to spread because there are many more "nobodies' in society versus the powerful 'somebodies,' who would have no use for ghost stories. Mandogi can live on in some form, which means he clearly represents the 'nobodies' of society through the telling of  "The Curious Tale of Mandogi's Ghost."

The New Capitalists?

Last week's issue of The Economist featured an article about North Korea entitled "The New Capitalists".  The article describes a so-called "revolutionary force" of "traders and merchants" that is beginning to emerge in North Korea.  The report is interesting in many ways, chronicling how this new emergent merchant class was created during the famine of the 1990s.

Nevertheless, the article wholly embodies the patronizing and sardonic tone the West adapts when discussing North Korea.  It begins with references to Kim Jong-Un as the "boy-dictator" and then pokes fun at the rarity of a, "well-stocked Pyongyang supermarket".  It proclaims that the best way to deal with North Korea is to, "undermine the regime, as the West did in eastern Europe during the Cold War".  This article, like so much of Western culture, sees free-market capitalism as the victorious, final stage of global economics, impervious to change or improvement.

And like so much discourse on North Korea found in the mainstream media, this article fails to contextualize North Korea in global history, asserting that it is merely a "repressive and backward" nation, that has isolated itself purely out of its ruler's maniacal ignorance.

A link to the article can be found here.

Politics of Recognition in They Chose China

Mike Wallace:  [Do the Red Chinese] believe in our freedoms?

David Hawkins: No.  To them, it’s much different.  And uh, we have an aggressive government who’s always hunting for war…

MW: Do you believe the United States should recognize Red China?

DH: Personally, I think they should.

MW: Why?

DH: It’s a very big thing.  They have a very large land area, a 650 million Chinese population, and it’s like, uh, like saying there’s a… it’s a big elephant in the room and saying he’s not there until he becomes powerful enough to step on you.

MW:  Do you expect that they will become powerful enough to step on us?

DH: I have no doubt.

-They Chose China, 43:00-44:30

When I watched this exchange between Mike Wallace and David Hawkins in They Chose China, I thought about the idea of politics of recognition and how it related to the Cold War attitudes towards China.  Now, it seems ridiculous to “not recognize” China, but Mike Wallace talks about nonrecognition as the norm, and recognition as subversive.  The interview is conducted like an interrogation.  When Wallace asks a question, the camera zooms in very closely to Hawkins’ face, drawing the audience’s attention to his nervousness and the sweat on his forehead and suggesting his guilt.  In this passage, Wallace focuses on Hawkins’ willingness to recognize the existence of an enormous country with different ideologies than the U.S., asking, “Do you believe the United States should recognize Red China?”  However, he doesn’t acknowledge or accept Hawkins’ full explanation of how large China is, but focuses instead on the suggestion that China could become a threat, leading the audience to believe that there are good reasons for not recognizing China.  Wallace’s interrogation-like interview reflects the attitudes of McCarthyism by acknowledging different ideologies only to demonize them.

In the clips of the interview shown in They Chose China, Wallace does not attempt to understand Hawkins’ point of view.  He doesn’t use the common interviewing technique of reflecting back what the interviewee has said and validating or contextualizing their point of view for the audience.  Instead, he continuously asks questions, one after the other, without responding to anything that Hawkins says.  In this way, Wallace’s interview with Hawkins could be seen as a microcosm of U.S.’s failure to recognize China (and the Americans who chose to live in China).  By having Hawkins on his show, Wallace recognizes Hawkins on some level, but in the interview, through his questions, language, and angle, he ends up being dismissive towards his perspective.  After reading Mike Wallace’s biography on Wikipedia, I learned that, during his time with CBS, this acknowledging-and-dismissing tactic came up more than once.  In 1967, Wallace anchored a documentary called, CBS Presents: The Homosexuals, where he said, “The average homosexual… is not interested or capable of a lasting relationship like that of a heterosexual marriage.”  Just like the Hawkins interview, Wallace recognizes the existence of gay people by anchoring a documentary called The Homosexuals, but then dismisses them by suggesting that their relationships are substandard compared to heterosexual couples, and that they aren’t as “capable” as heterosexual people.  Wallace’s eagerness to repeatedly define otherized groups to himself and his audience without actually listening to their perspectives reveals the tendency of the majority to legitimize their own power by diminishing the narratives of the Other.