by Inae Oh
December 6, 2024
Introduction:
The balance of the article is an interview with Namhee Lee, a UCLA professor of modern Korean history.(Mother Jones) Back in September, amid simmering tensions between South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol and the country’s parliament, opposition leader Lee Jae-myung issued a warning: Yoon and his allies were preparing to declare martial law.
The claim was roundly dismissed as alarmist, the irresponsible stuff of conspiracy theories—even by some of Lee’s supporters. But the warning was prescient. On Tuesday, Yoon shocked the world by carrying out exactly what had been warned, declaring that martial law was necessary to save South Korea from “anti-state forces.”
The action instantly prompted scenes of chaos to unfold, with stunned lawmakers, and thousands of ordinary citizens, mobilizing to protest the declaration. Hours later, a unanimous parliamentary vote forced Yoon to back down. Still, his fate remains uncertain. Many are increasingly concerned that Yoon could reinstate martial law once more. Meanwhile, immense crowds continue to gather in Seoul, demanding Yoon’s removal.
As a Korean American watching some seven thousand miles away, the scenes have engendered a rare mix of relatability and pride. I say rare because my own relationship with the country of my parents is a bit strange. My Dad discouraged me from learning Korean, having immigrated at 19 and endured ugly bits of racism at school and later in his sheet metal career; my Mom, who very much still considers herself Korean first, taught me at a young age that the US is an international bully. Dad’s influence ultimately won. Though I’ve visited Seoul many times, I don’t speak the language and couldn’t care less about the pop culture everyone else in the world seems to increasingly enjoy.
It’s against this personal backdrop that I quickly noticed an unexpected current undergirding the demonstrations against Yoon: one of joy, even revelry, with protesters spanning generations: ajummas, ajushees, halumnis, haksengs. Then there were videos of soldiers apologizing to protesters. The nation’s largest labor union declared an indefinite strike, events I simply can’t envision here. It’s a palpable adrenaline that seems foreign to the current stupor I feel about things closer to home. And a surprising envy came over me. What was it about South Korea that could produce such a robust protest culture?
Read more here: https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2 ... -culture/
