The Idol of Korean History: Manufactured “Legitimacy” and the Perils of Anti-Japan Education
Originally published on April 12, 2019.
As a continuation of a chapter first published on October 9, 2018, this passage examines historical narratives surrounding state legitimacy in Korea, the mythologizing of Kim Il Sung, interpretations of the Battle of Qingshanli, and the effects of anti-Japan education on younger generations.
It sharply criticizes the structure by which history is reshaped for political convenience and then projected onto Japan.
2019-04-12
Koreans create history in whatever way is convenient for themselves.
And then they worship it like an idol and force it upon Japan.
This is the chapter I published on 2018-10-09 under the title:
“In an effort to somehow obtain legitimacy, South Korea has worked hard to entrench the lie that it won the Battle of Qingshanli, yet it was the Japanese Army that remained on the battlefield.”
What follows is a continuation of the previous chapter.
◎ The Imposition of the “Idol” Called Korean History
There were many politicians, both inside the Park Geun-hye administration and on the opposition side, who had been influenced by ideological subversion.
The present Moon Jae-in administration is itself pro-North in character.
They argue:
“North Korea fought the war of independence under the late President Kim Il Sung.
Therefore, North Korea possesses state ‘legitimacy.’”
In other words:
“Which side, North or South, has legitimacy.
North Korea has it, because it fought the war of independence!”
As I touched on briefly before, even if one calls it a war of independence, Kim Il Sung was no more than a single officer in the Chinese force called the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army.
He fought for about six years from 1934, and in the end, pursued by Japanese punitive forces, he barely escaped with his life into the Soviet Far East.
His only victory was the Battle of Pochonbo.
In 1937, he merely surrounded a town called Pochonbo, set a lumber shop on fire, broke into a post office and stole money, attacked a police box, killed 10 policemen, and fled.
Yet in North Korea this is called the “Great Battle of Pochonbo” and treated as a historic battlefield.
Even this is enough, in one sense, to guarantee legitimacy.
By contrast, South Korea has never fought the Japanese Army in modern history.
The only battle South Korea claims is the Battle of Qingshanli in 1920, and the enemy there was Korean brigands.
South Korea, which gained independence as an unexpected windfall through Japan’s unconditional surrender and the advance of U.S. forces, has no true national legitimacy to begin with.
Ordinary Koreans also know this, and they realize that, compared with the northern regime, their own government bears a flaw in terms of legitimacy.
In an effort to somehow obtain legitimacy, South Korea has worked hard to entrench the lie that it won the Battle of Qingshanli, yet it was the Japanese Army that remained on the battlefield.
There is no logic by which the defeated side remains on the battlefield.
In order to preserve legitimacy, the only figures South Korea can boast of as heroes are bomb-throwing terrorists.
That South Korea must turn bomb terrorists into heroes is the tragedy of present-day Korea, and what I fear is this:
young Koreans, indoctrinated through anti-Japan education into thinking that terrorists and bombers were heroes of a liberation movement, their minds made into something like the IRA, may one day think, “I want to become a hero too,” and cross the sea carrying bombs.
Koreans create history in whatever way is convenient for themselves.
And then they worship it like an idol and force it upon Japan.
