Traditional Beliefs
Koreans traditionally have shown an intense love of their land, an emotion felt so strongly that it has been reflected in their beliefs, philosophy and religion.
The mountains, rivers, coasts and seas, and the four seasons that nurture them, have played important roles in forming basic thoughts and relationships among the people of the peninsula since earliest times. Their ancestors migrated across the vast plains from Siberia and Manchuria, seeking to find homes in a warmer clime. Settling of their own free will, they came to shape a history distinctively their own.
Samguk yusa (Memorabilia of the Three Kingdoms) records that it was Tan-gun who founded the nation of Korea. Legend says his father, Hwanung, a heavenly deity, decided to settle on earth in response to the desire of earthlings. A bear was transformed into a woman, and Hwanung married her. Tan-gun was born of their union and began a reign in 2333 B.C. that was to continue for more than a millennium.
While some have dismissed the legend as an indication of the totemism of the Korean people, others have noted the significance of a belief in which a deity had, of his own volition, desired to become a human being. They held that the Korean people did not consider the earth a place of exile for heavenly beings, not a place the erring were sent to live in penance.
This view was that the land and country comprised a dream, so good that even the deities and animals wanted to live there, and that the Korean people felt gratified to have chosen such a place for their home.
Even the neighboring Chinese were said to have expressed wonder at the beauty of Korea, summing it up in one of their ancient verses: "Would rather live in Korea and see Mt. Kumgangsan (Diamond Mountains).
Once known as the "Eastern Land of Courtesy," Korea, in its long history, seldom cultivated overseas interests, never invaded its neighbors, nor sought development outside given boundaries. Ancient Chinese records say it was the custom of the Korean people, being so courteous to each other, to avoid walking on the road, fearing it would hamper the movement of another. Foreigners commonly were called barbarians.
This excessive adulation of their homeland, while being averse to the coveting of the territories of others, eventually invited aggression from outside, bringing the subjugation of the Korean people and a period of colonial suffering.
Among the many Korean proverbs is one declaring preference for "an earthly field of dung to the wonders of the afterworld." This demonstrates the choice of the life of the present, no matter how sordid it may be, to that of an imaginative, unknown heaven. Korean literature contains many tales reflecting such a psychological trend in thinking.
In traditional literature, a beautiful lady, called Sonnyo, would descend from heaven in search of a fuller life on earth, marry an earthling, become a mother and eventually fulfill the chores expected of every married woman. She would then go back to her former abode in heaven, but there is usually no reference to what became of her after her return to heaven.
The art of Korea is different in its lines and colors, clearly distinguished from the strong, bold strokes of the Asian continent, or from dazzling colorations and excessive refinement that mark the art of island nations. On the surface the pale colors reflect nothing strong or positive; often they are taken to have a negative meaning. Images of willows or clouds are painted not in bold, firm lines, but in pale, thin brush strokes. But these elements should not lead to a hasty interpretation that Korea ancestors were life-weary. The magical effect of these strokes and lines seem, at a close look, to reflect the ardent yearning for the life of the sonin, the hermit. The heavens, rivers, and other objects of nature are rarely painted in strong colors; the pale grayish colors have an attraction of their own.
Foreigners who have lived in Korea and acquired some knowledge of the Korean language may wonder at the frequent use of the phrase, "aigo chukketta," which literally means "I could just die." They may also wonder at so many passages in popular ballads or lyrics in which people vent their sadness against the transience of life. One hearing a rendition of ch'ang, a style of folk singing, for instance, might even feel it is a voice crying in agony. Hearing and reading Korean songs and writings, foreigners may raise the question whether this is not the true characteristic of the people. This negative outlook on life was caused by the decline in the power of the state in succeeding chapters of history, and made all the more bitter by subsequent foreign invasions of Korea.
These views have now given way to the newly resurging vitality of youthful Koreans who want no more of this nihilistic attitude. No matter how much they "want to die," they ardently desire a good life on this earth. One proof of this way of thinking might be found in the way children are named in Korea. Many names take the meaning of stone and iron, such as Ch'adori or Soedori. Stone and iron are ageless, hard and able to withstand the test of time. These names are given in the hope of bestowing long life on the bearers.
Koreans have a flair for decorating things with Chinese ideographs, the most common being su, meaning long life, and pok, bliss. Of these two characters, preference is for the former. First is long life, and then well-being. The two letters are always read su-pok and not pok-su. Wealth, a good career, health, and many children are considered factors of bliss.
In building a house or choosing a place for burial, Koreans have always considered the natural surroundings, such as the course of a river or shape of a mountain, important. There were criteria for choosing the most ideal place, which went by the name myongdang. Large amounts of money were often spent for the purpose of selecting a myongdang by means of geomancy. Without exception, powerful families concentrated their attention on securing such places for residences and burial grounds, not to speak of royal palaces and royal tombs. This observance of geomancy is evident in numerous graves that dot the Korean countryside. This practice flourished during the Koryo and Choson periods.
Heaven has always been considered the source of both mercy and wrath. Periodic rituals with offerings to heaven were conducted for the benefit of farmers and fishermen. Believing in the power of heaven over the destiny of mankind, they prayed for bumper crops or safe voyages. Among the many exclamations in Korea are two which concern the subject of heaven: "Heaven" is shouted when some extraordinary emergency arises, and "learn to fear heaven" is uttered when someone does something unacceptable. Heaven was respected because of its vastness and light; it was neither a religious worship, nor a traditional folk custom. It was for this reason that human dignity was often associated with heaven. For example, a king was a "son of heaven." This creed eventually produced the Tonghak philosophy or Eastern Learning in the late 19th century, the essential concept of which equated the power of heaven with that of man.
There seems to be no single concept as far as the philosophy of Korea is concerned. Just as the life of a Korean could hardly be divorced from the currents of the world, so with philosophic tenets. Korean philosophy has progressed and became enriched through meetings, conflicts, and combinations with alien thoughts. At certain stages in history, Koreans learned to combine their own inherent philosophies with those of other countries. This process often produced a brilliant synthesis, disclosing the imaginative power and creative sense of Koreans. Thus, foreign philosophy as well benefitted from Korean influence.
Koreans rarely indulged in discussing abstract matters, for their interest was focused on the present. Some, of course, did theorize and brought forth solid philosophic theses, but always these were accompanied by calls for actual practice. Apparently the ancient sage did not stroll amid beautiful scenery, lost in meditation over abstract escapist thought. To many of them, it was important that their thoughts help cultivate their personality. The principles which guided members of the Hwarang corps during the Shilla kingdom included matching body with mind, and matching word with action. It was a demonstration of true Korean philosophy. Through the expounding of Buddhism, theorizing upon Confucianism, and showing reverence for heaven and all the spirits that inhabit nature's creatures, Koreans shaped their philosophy.
Early Philosophers
In the history of Korean philosophy, no man has held the cause of national consensus as much as did Yi Ih (Yulgok) in the 16th century. National consensus is something gained only through spontaneous harmony of public opinions, and it must not be confused with ideological struggle. A national consensus in meaning more closely approaches national philosophy and is not achieved through coercion or seduction.
Yi's theory was that national consensus must come spontaneously from all sections of the population, for any enforced formation of a national consensus could only result in calamity. This national consensus in its true sense would not be attained if the true voice of dissent was stifled in favor of blind assent. A national consensus arrived at through suppression of true patriotic voices would not be a true national consensus. Yi insisted that this national consensus should follow the dictates of changing situations. Speaking of his own time, he expressed the fear that, because the true voice of dissent was being stifled, opinions of the ruled were seriously divided. He feared there would soon be national calamities. According to his theory, national consensus was the vitality of the state and he declared that survival of the kingdom depended on whether this public opinion or national consensus could be achieved.
Yi Ih made a serious distinction between national consensus and "idle prattle," or to put it into more modern terminology, "demagoguery." He held that demagoguery, once started, shakes the foundation of the kingdom if it is not checked in time, and soon becomes too big to control. No man, however high his stature, can survive once he is involved in demagoguery. No eloquence or courage can save the kingdom once it is enveloped in demagoguery. Public resentment is directly attributed to misrule by the leadership. The ruler should take the voice of the subjects more seriously. The poor are deprived of their true nature, morality crumbles and penal systems are rendered ineffective under such circumstances. A man who risks his life for something does so for legitimate reason. Any act of reform should have the sole purpose of bettering the life of the people. Injustice will not be eliminated if corrupt officials escape reform.
Po U, a Buddhist philosopher, advocated the Unitary Theory of Ilchongron in which he identified intellect, il, with heart, shim. According to his philosophy, the body of man must be identified with the body of the universe. By the same token, the heart of man is the heart of the universe, the vitality of man the vitality governing the universe. Hence, heaven should be considered the same as man, and vice versa.
The emergence of the Tonghak philosophy, which followed these assertions, was significant for it was based on the theory that man was equal to heaven, and that he should be served as heaven is to be feared.
Ch'oe Hae-wol (1829 - 98) further enriched the argument by claiming that as man is heaven and heaven is equal to man, the two concepts could not be considered separately. Following this theory, there should be no distinction as to class or origin.
Following the emergence of the philosophy of equality came the advocacy of sincerity in learning. It was thought that the ultimate purpose of learning was sincerity, and sincerity was the true way for people to become what they are.
In line with this philosophy, Yi Ik-chae (1287 - 1367) recommended to the king during the latter part of the Koryo Dynasty a series of measures aimed at correcting educational policies. Among these was one holding that all learning should emphasize "realism". Yi himself disdained metaphysical subjects, comparing empty talk to weeds.
A little later, Kwon Kun (1352 - 1409) discussed the theme of shilli and shilshim, both of which could be translated as realistic reasoning and realistic mind. But Yi Hwang (T'oegye, 1501 - 70) used the word sirhak or practical learning in the preface of his book, Essence of Neo-Confucianism. In his letter addressed to Hwang Chung-go, he used the word mushil (endeavor to be realistic) to convey his philosophy.
According to Yi I, a "sincere man" was the "man who knew the realism of heaven." And, because the mind was the essence of the body, it was not the soul which was evil. Evil would merely surround the soul, and this was why an insincere man could not be restored to his original good self. The spirit of reverence is a weapon for defeating this evil; the spirit of reverence constitutes the essence of sincerity. Sincerity thus becomes the origin of reverence, and it is this factor that constitutes man's essence.
Yi Ih himself was a completely sincere soul. A composition he wrote at the age of 20 said a household could not sustain harmony unless every member in the family was sufficiently sincere; that when confronted with misfortune, one most undertake deep self-reflection to find and correct one's own mistakes. And most important of all, Yi said the reason for reading was to put into practice what one had learned. Reading for the sake of reading would not do, he said. Yi's stepmother enjoyed drinking wine, but Yi never tried to reprove her for this unfortunate habit. Every morning he would inquire after her comfort, offering her several cups himself. This continued for years until she was finally moved to desist from the drinking habit. When he died, his stepmother, in gratitude for his dedication, dressed in white mourning attire for three years. Yi seems to have practiced what he preached. His life was one of consistent sincerity.
Po U's theory of ilchong (one origin) contained similar tenets. Although he had been indicted several times for his Buddhist inclinations, his theory called for a simple observance of sincerity and faith. The way of heaven, he said, was one -- the prevailing of sincerity. Man's true form of mind is clean, marred by no private greed or prejudice, he insisted. To him righteousness was always unitary in structure. Although he differed with Confucian scholars, his essential position on sincerity was the same. He also declared that righteousness was to be gained through a spirit of reverence. Certain aspects of the thoughts of the school of realism may coincide with those of Western existential philosophers. Kierkegaard, for example, said that man could stand before the absolute only when he had transformed himself to his original sincerity. Heidegger then assumed that only when man achieved sincerity could he transcend. According to Jaspers, only thus would man confront his reality.
Sartre summed it up by saying that only the true existential man can secure his freedom. At the core of existentialism lies the spirit of sincerity. Apparently such early existentialism was vigorously pursued by Korean philosophers, forming the basis of their cultural development.
Pak Chi-won (1737 - 1805) claimed that seong (nature) caused the existence of sincerity. Being virtuous was the act of securing substance. Therefore, one must not expend energy in unrealistic fields but should occupy the mind only with realistic questions. A wise man prefers substance to surface, for it is in the nature of things that the brighter the surface, the less the substance.
Another proponent of the philosophy of sincerity was Chong Yag-yong (Tasan, 1762 - 1836). At the age of 40, when he was thrown into jail, he confessed that night and day his only thought revolved around this central theme. He sought consolation by reciting the Song chapter in the ancient Chinese classic, The Great Learning. Life and death depended on heaven, and the only everlasting thing in life was sincerity, he said. Later, when he was exiled to Kangjin, he wrote letters to his two sons advising them to pin the Song chapter on the wall and abide by its rule. Sincerity was his last conviction.
Tonghak, or Eastern Learning, also emphasized this aspect of sincerity. In proclamations and numerous songs composed for instruction and for extolling the virtue of learning and diligence, this major theme of sincerity was endlessly repeated. Reverence and sincerity were the basis of this Eastern Learning.
This philosophy of long tradition later saw further development through the educator-patriot An Ch'ang-ho's call to "practice with diligence." The word sincerity summarized his life-long maxim. He taught students and practiced what he taught. He resented tricksters and avoided slandering others. In his dealing with others, pretension was meticulously excluded. The basis of this philosophy later became the core of Hungsadan or the Society for Raising Gentlemen, which he formed in 1913.
Along with the emphasis on action followed increased concern over the improvement of public welfare and the laying of foundations for understanding modern science and technology. Yi Hang-bok wrote that Yi Ih "personally manufactured his own hoes and worked bellows. A great man does not disdain this sort of work." Another philosopher, Pak Chi-won went so far as to argue that vehicles would be machines of the greatest utility in the kingdom. Roads would be built naturally if there were vehicles available, he said, and he wondered aloud why vehicles were not put to wider use. It was his idea to have many vehicles made and introduced to farmers. One needs a good machine to work better, he said, and warned that rulers would be blamed by future generations for not having learned the spirit of sirhak or realistic thinking. Chong Yag-yong was famous for his concern for public welfare. In his letters to his son, he not only warned that defense capability was important, but drew his son's attention to the importance of farming. "Planting fruit and vegetables in your garden would be far better than scribbling insignificant lines on your paper," he told his son. To him, farmers produced wealth, and nothing could equal the art of gardening, cattle-raising, fishing and sericulture. Men and women, old and young, each must possess professions befitting their abilities, he said. If the theory of sincerity concerned itself with moral issues, the problem of public welfare was connected with the development of economy and industry. The word "substance" has two edges to its meaning; morality and industry. This thinking is closer than any other idea to the philosophy behind Korea's endeavor for nation-building. It includes the question of rediscovery of the nation as well as economic development.
The scientific way of thinking became more and more associated with the problem of public welfare during the time of Chong Yag-yong. At the age of 28, Chong suggested that boats could be strung together to form a pontoon, and when he was 31 years old, he tried for the first time to use a crane to build a fortress wall in Suwon. He discovered the principle of the pulley. He was also interested in an early form of vaccination as demonstrated by notes on inoculation in his book.
Contemporary Thought in Korea
It is a hazardous task to attempt to deal with a subject like modern thought in Korea because there is no clear demarcation separating the thinking of the present-day Korean from that of his predecessors. Yet some explanation is in order since it is certain that the present-day Korean's opinions of everything around him are far different from his ancestors. However different, his way of thinking in the modern world is colored by a national frame of mind centered for centuries on faith in such religious-philosophical beliefs as Buddhism, Taoism, and especially, Confucianism. A typical young modern Korean may express complete disinterest in Confucianism but he remains, all the same, bound by the Confucian approach to disciplinary habits of work and study, life and play. Such discipline is the core of the Confucian ethic.
In order to draw a line which may have marked the advent of the world of new ideas, the traditional thinking of the Korean people must be recalled. Generally the arbitrary line of 1894 can be assumed as the necessary demarcation. This was the year of the Kabo Reforms which brought reverberating shocks to the tottering feudalistic structure of Choson. True, Korea had contacts with the West before this: Japan's Hideyoshi brought Western firearms to Korea in order to conquer; shipwrecked Dutchmen brought Western instruments; Catholic priests opened Korea's eye to Western achievements; and more substantially, foreign treaties from 1882 on brought in many foreigners with any number of new ideas. But it was the Kabo Reforms that shocked the Choson kingdom both politically and socially and gave rise to a stream of movements pressing for the modernization of society.
From 1894 on, Western nations and Japan began to pour capital into Korea to exploit Korea's market and natural resources. Along with these foreign investments came new ideas which inevitably replaced feudalistic ideas of politics and society. Confucianism was split into two schools under the impact. The positive school, forever admiring Chinese culture, stuck loyally by a declining dynasty to oppose all foreign influences, particularly Japanese militarism. The negative school retreated from everything, old or new. The political world became polluted with the domination of men who either followed Japanese policies or collaborated with representatives of the Japanese Government. At the same time, this process provided a basis for the introduction of new ideas and these opportunities, in turn, resulted in conflicting schools of thought on the best method to bring about modernization.
The movement to reform Korean society after 1894 was a movement aimed at modernization. However, this proved impossible at the close of the 19th century because of unfavorable political and economic conditions. Politicians, steeped in degenerate times, were simply not up to the task of meeting a bold and demanding challenge. Even assuming that there were enough men among them who understood the nature of the aggressive Japanese capitalism and opposed it fully, the internal feudal economy of the kingdom was too weak and the economy of Japan, allied with England, too strong. Not only economically but even spiritually, the power of the old ideas was tottering while there was no other ideological system prepared to stem the tides of corruption. Politically, Korea was bankrupt and Japan, certain in its aim of imperialistic expansion in an age of imperialism, meant to fill the vacuum. From 1882 on, that is to say, when the "Hermit Kingdom" was at last opened by the signing of treaty with the United States, Koreans came into increasing contact with Westerners, especially American missionaries who brought not only the Bible but knowledge of Western medicine and education as well. Through such contacts and from the lessons of China and Japan, Korean leaders became convinced that their country had to be modernized. The obvious answer was to replace the agricultural economy, which was on the brink of collapse, with capitalism. Many wanted to effect this transformation at one bound as Japan had done.
This, of course, proved to be an impracticable task in the face of the circumstances. Impracticable or impossible, of more concern is what Koreans were thinking about the need for modern reforms. Many intellectuals urged a capitalistic solution during this critical period and even long after the Japanese domination.
Yu Kil-chun (1856 - 1916) lived at a time when capitalism was swiftly developing imperialistic wings throughout the world. Realizing the danger of Korea falling into the status of a colony directly from a court-dominated agricultural society, he sought a program that might save the land from this fate through modernization. Many Koreans would have none of this and he was continually hounded by conservatives who were anti-Japanese and pro-Chinese. At first, he strove for economic and political reforms, but after Korea became a colony, he turned his efforts to educational ends.
Yu's most outstanding work was a book entitled Soyu Kyonmun (Observations on a Journey to the West). Printed in Yokohama, Japan, it was a revolutionary work for the time, for its size (20 chapters, 555 pages), for its new style of mixing Hangul letters and Chinese characters, and, above all, for its content. The purpose of the book was to contribute to the modernization of Korea by informing the reader of what the Western world was doing and accomplishing. Yu emphasized the rights of the people, nationalism, and international spirit. He stressed the contrast he saw between the West and his native country, saying that what he found at home was the poverty and weakness of an underdeveloped agricultural land, while what he found in the West were high standards of living under a highly developed system of commercialism. Yu's book was aimed at persuading Koreans to accept a capitalistic system of society. It was the first work of modern tenor to reach the Korean reading public.
Like Yu, Paek In-gyu tried to introduce a capitalistic spirit into Korea. His main work, The Economic History of Korea, was published in San Francisco in 1920. It was long overdue, but as a development of Korean modern thinking, it was still monumental. In the preface, he made the following point: "If we study the economic history of Korea more deeply, we may be able to foster an education in economics which may prove to be the key to the economic independence of Korea. Economic independence will accelerate political independence." An overseas student with a master's degree from the University of Southern California, Paek was absorbed in the cause of national independence throughout his foreign travels. By showing the interrelation between economic and political independence, he reemphasized the meaning of the sweeping independence movement that erupted in 1919.
Korean movements for national independence and resistance to Japanese domination may be difficult to understand. Too many emotions were involved over too long a period of time to present a clear picture other than the spontaneous stream symbolized by the independence movement or the joyous liberation of 1945. At one extreme, it might be said that the Korean people achieved nothing. After all, the independence movement was a failure, and liberation was incidental to the settlement to World War II. At the other extreme, one might conclude that every Korean who retained his national identity successfully earned his independence and liberated himself, since the open aim of the enemy was to erase that identity. Clearly, such extreme conclusions will not do, for Koreans are not all heroes or all cowards but a people like every other people, loving peace and hating tyranny. The true picture lies somewhere in between. Such a picture, however, is far from clear as the history of the Korean fight for independence has yet to be studied thoroughly. There is no literature comprehensive enough to give a good grasp of the ideology behind it.
Despite the Japanese, the process of modernization begun in 1894 continued throughout the colonial period. Numbers of Koreans pioneered in modern thinking to pave the path to national democracy. To be a modern thinker was to stimulate the spirit of nationalism in the people. This was the lifelong task of men like Chang Chi-yon and Shin Ch'ae-ho. Chang (1861 - 1921) was a prolific writer who reflected the spirit of modern times in numerous newspaper articles and a number of books. Shin (1880 - 1936) began as a student of ancient Korea, devoted his life to the cause of Korean independence, and died in a Japanese prison cell. His fate was by no means exceptional.
Another name that cannot be omitted is Chu Shi-gyong. As the pioneer of a scientific approach to the Korean language and the individual responsible for the systematization of Korean grammar, Chu played an important role in reawakening the national consciousness of the people. The Korean language was an anathema to Japanese imperialism, and the linguists who followed in his footsteps were incarcerated for years. How this resistance through language relates to direct political action remains to be fully described. Consciously or otherwise, the linguists must have seen in this a means to foster the national spirit that would speed the day of national independence. One of them, Ch'oe Hyon-bae, suggested as much. The viewpoint of the linguists themselves may have been biased, but to preserve and uphold one's mother tongue was to resist an enemy which was bent on eliminating it. At the very least, by championing the language issue, Chu and his successors reminded the people of their national birthright.
American Protestant missionaries who began arriving after 1884 were also instrumental in reawakening the national consciousness. It was in Protestant churches that Koreans first heard about democracy and human rights. Korean Protestants formed the Independence Club, and from Korean Protestant ranks came the spearhead for the independence movement. The leading work reflecting the Korean spirit of nationalism through Protestant inspiration was The Spirit of Independence by the man who later became the first President of the Republic of Korea, Dr. Syngman Rhee. The importance of this book cannot be overestimated. It must be carefully read against a proper Korean background to be appreciated properly. Only such a correct appreciation can lead to an understanding of the political trends of Korea after 1945. Under the mounting pressures of the long period of Japanese imperialism, the nationalistic and democratic yearnings of the Korean people found a new logic to resolve the intolerable situation. That logic was related directly to social thinking in modern Japan.
Many Koreans may have accepted new trends of thinking directly from the West but the main thrust came via Japan. It was mostly under the influence of Japanese thinkers that anarchist or socialist thinking were born. The only counterbalance was the spread of communism that flowed in from the Soviet Union rather than Japan. The route travelled from Siberia through the Chientao province of Manchuria with its large Korean community and over the northeastern border into the Hamgyong-do province, traditionally a stronghold of opposition to the government in Seoul. All these social theories were accepted unconditionally by Koreans as tools for national liberation before being fully studied, and for that reason, they have never really been thoroughly understood.
Voluntary movements against Japanese domination began toward the end of the 19th century. At first, they were based largely on Confucianism. After the downfall of Choson, many Koreans, living either in exile or studying at home or in Japan, adopted social or political theories that seemed to offer the most likely prospects of defeating the designs of Japanese imperialism. The search continued despite the clutch of Japanese colonialism.
Meanwhile, the national economy was crumbling. Save for the landlord class which collaborated with the Japanese colonizers, farmers were reduced to a state of virtual bankruptcy. Many quit the country altogether, some going to Japan and others to Manchuria. Those who remained were at the mercy of arbitrary Japanese exploitation. Increasingly, Korean intellectuals, who saw the plight of the farmers firsthand, became preoccupied with the land problem. Most of them found the answer in socialism or communism, thereby splitting Koreans into socialists and nationalists.
Under Japanese rule, the two camps shared a common goal of anti-Japanese resistance and national liberation. With liberation, the split became acute and the conflict fierce and open. Ideological confusion was superimposed on an atmosphere of a joy-drunken liberated state. Almost immediately, too, the Soviet-American cold war sharpened the conflict and drove the opposing sides apart. Confusion was ended and in its place stood the confrontation of two hostile, uncompromising ideologies, separated by a line neither side would acknowledge. The North went Communist, and the South adopted the model of American democracy.
The Republic of Korea, which is the official English name for the southern state, adopted liberalism as its guiding principle. From the day of its birth in 1948, however, the Republic was to experience for more than a decade the untold sorrow of ideological confrontation, fratricidal war, devastation, destitution, self-doubt, and despondency. The society went through unchanging stagnancy with vestiges of feudalism and remnants of Japanese imperialism all piled together in a sea of contradictions. Also present were the fears and insecurities created by the unprovoked attack from the North in 1950 and the continuing threat of its recurrence.
These were serious elements that had to be corrected in order to clear away enough of the contradictions for a liberal climate to prevail. The problems were basically political but the mood, even in college lecture-classes, was escapism from politics and, indeed, from all reality, save for the perusal of Western authors. Yet these were Korean problems and as such, had to be weighed and studied by Koreans themselves in or out of school. The clarification had to be sought not only from scholars of the social and humanistic sciences but, more importantly, from students of philosophy. The last subject of interest for those enmeshed in an escapist mood was philosophy; yet all problems must, first and last, be explained philosophically. Not all problems were the result of internal divisions. Many stemmed from the division of the country into two zones by outside powers, compounding the task of the Korean student of philosophy. He had to choose one out of many and diverse currents of thought in the world order to find the key that would unify the conflicting ideas at home.
One tradition Korea inherited from the Japanese years and which must be held in high esteem is the literary spirit that was born. Many patriots expressed themselves in literary creation. The trends of this literature have yet to be analyzed sufficiently to link its spirit with the spirit of social and political movements.
What is seen clearly in the creative literature of the era is the spirit of transition from feudal to modern society. The proletarian literature which reflected the sufferings of the Korean people under Japanese imperialism and colonialism, even before developing to a full-fledged stage, transmogrified itself into an activist movement of political resistance. The overall literary trend was a search for harmony of realism with romanticism. It did not merely reflect social condition but expressed national aspirations. A third school wanted to escape from everything. Men of letters suffocated by the reality of the harsh conditions in which they were living sought escape from social conditions, even to the point of suicide. The poet, Yi Sang, for instance, spent his entire life in a stifling atmosphere. One of his poems, entitled "Fatigue," may be considered a striking description of the anxiety and unrest of his day. It was a prayer for salvation by the Creator and as such not merely the prayer of a young man of 29 in the year 1927, but the prayer of many a young man of the 1950s. Korean youth yearned for deliverance from the difficulties caused by the political and economic deficiencies of society. This was as it should have been, but only if they remembered never to succumb to isolation, despondency, or cynicism. Their deliverance would come not from their negativist dissension but from their positive search for a future.
To find a new philosophy that may clear the path to a bright future requires a backward gaze. The point of departure for Koreans today lies in a searching review of their own history.
Religion
The primitive Korean, a hunter-fisher, was bewildered by the way in which things around him behaved. He wondered if, like humans, other things had spirits.
As the family grew larger and larger, clans and then tribes gradually developed. The sense of wonder was shared by tribe members and they attempted to understand, and if possible, to come to terms with their environment. Their search eventually evolved into a nature-belief that powerful spirits resided in natural forces and animate and inanimate objects surrounding them. Thus, when the hunter had to kill an animal for food, he performed a rite invoking the approval of the spirit of the victim. When the farmers wished for a good harvest, they held ceremonies which were intended to propitiate the local gods of field and forest.
For personal as opposed to social needs, individuals of such primitive societies required an intermediary with the spirit world who could avert bad luck, cure sickness and assure passage from this world to the next when the time came. Such a priest-like individual, known as a shaman, would be called upon to perform the requisite rituals. This system of belief, or shamanism, still persists in obscure corners of Korea today.
The tribal communities gradually developed into kingdoms. By the first century B.C., three kingdoms, Koguryo, Paekche and Shilla, dominated the Korean Peninsula. Religious rituals common to these tribal states included a service directed at propitiating heaven. When this service was over, villagers spent the night dancing and singing.
These tribal rituals were conducted by chieftains, who were regarded as "messengers of the Heavenly Emperor." In southern Korea, however, the Sam Han tribes, or three Han tribes, had separate officials for this function performed at sodo or holy places. These were regarded as so sacred that a fugitive could seek sanctuary there without fear of molestation.
As tribal communities achieved statehood, each kingdom required a system of worship which could bind the numerous constituent communities. This brought about the system of the "founder's altar." Upon taking over, the chieftain or king would visit this altar and offer prayers. These altars developed into shrines. Some were dedicated to the king's forebearers and others to sajik, or the gods of land and harvest. As late as Choson, the founder-king, T'aejo, built an altar, sajiktan, in 1394 to honor the gods of land and harvest with prayers four times a year. This site is commemorated today in the name of a city block in Seoul called Sajik-dong, located to the west of Kyongbokkung Palace and the National Museum.
During the Three Kingdoms era more organized religions began to flow into Korea from China. Taoism, Confucianism and Buddhism came one after another, were readily accepted, and remained with the Koreans until modern times.
The introduction of these religions did not result in the abandonment of animistic beliefs and practices. When Buddhism and Confucianism entered Korea from continental Asia, neither considered itself in conflict with the other, nor in opposition to rites relating to local nature-spirits. Christianity was the only imported religion to proclaim its exclusive possession of the truth. However it has not been able to make much headway against the long-ingrained habit of religious syncretism, at least among the simpler rural people.
This is not to say that Koreans are fickle when it comes to religion, nor that they are especially gullible. Rather, in religion as in much else, Koreans tend to be pragmatic. They will try anything once, and the criterion for evaluating a system of belief or a course of action is whether it works in a pinch. It might be more appropriate to say that the fundamental Korean character of incessant search for harmony transcends all existing forms and systems of religion. This is exemplified in the tenets of the Hwarang spirit -- the national spirit that eventually led Shilla, one of the three kingdoms, to unify the peninsula. To the Hwarang, or the elite of Shilla youth, as it was to some of the modern nationalist thinkers of turbulent 19th century Korea, the truth lay, or was to be sought, in a combination of traditional beliefs and newly introduced established religions.
Korea's Oldest Religion
Korea's oldest religion, other than nature worship, is Taejonggyo. Called Koshindo until the early 20th century, it embodies a myth of national foundation comparable to other nations. There are few adherents of this belief today, but it has obviously influenced later religious developments. Taejonggyo is a belief about 4,000 years old and embodies the concept of a triune god: creator, teacher, and temporal king, whose name is Hanul. This god took human form in the person of Tan-gun, the father, teacher, and king of the Korean people, who was born of a heavenly deity father and a bear-totem tribe woman. This event supposedly happened in 2333 B.C., and until recent times Korean calendars and dates were reckoned from that year. Tan-gun became the great teacher and law-giver of the tribes living on the Korean Peninsula, reigning over them until he ascended to heaven.
In order to propagate worship of Hanul, Tan-gun established rituals for offering prayers of praise and propitiation to heaven. These rituals became established among nobles and commoners alike by the time of the Three Kingdoms period, but with the introduction of foreign religions, purity in the practice of Taejonggyo gradually declined. By the 15th century, this cult had practically disappeared. However, the resurgence of Korean nationalism and a spirit of independence in the late 19th and early 20th centuries led to the appearance of several sects claiming to represent a revival of this ancient cult.
Taoism in Korea
It is difficult to pinpoint the exact date when Taoism, as philosophy and religion, came to influence Korea. Murals found in Koguryo tumuli near Kangso, P'yongan-do province, show Taoist influence. Records indicate that the teachings of Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu were brought to Korea in the 7th century A.D., and that there were some active effort to study them.
The introduction of Taoism underminded an already weak Buddhism which lacked popular appeal but was supported by the court. Buddhist temples were gradually converted into Taoist temples during Koguryo.
In Paekche, too, there was a trend towards a belief in Taoist spirits. But the strongest imprint of Taoist influence can be discerned in the guiding principles of the Hwarang of Shilla, who were trained in patience, simplicity, contentment, and harmony -- all part of Taoist ethics -- along with the Confucian doctrine of loyalty, filial piety, righteousness, and good faith, and the Buddhist teaching of compassion.
Although Taoism failed to proliferate as an independent cult, it continued to permeate all strata of the Korean populace. For one thing, Taoism's syncretic worship of a multiplicity of gods fitted in readily with Korea's animistic beliefs. For another, Taoism freely borrowed from Confucianism and Buddhism in its institutions, temples, ceremonies and canon.
The most apparent trace of Taoist influence among Koreans is the search for blessings and longevity, the strongest of Taoist features. The fact that the indelible Taoist mark in the two Chinese characters su (longevity) and pok (bliss) decorate so many everyday articles, such as spoons and pillow cases, shows that Taoism permeated the everyday life of the Korean people. Also, the number of peaks and valleys throughout the country bearing such Taoist-related names as "Immortal's Peak" or "Fairy's Valley" indicates a strong Taoist influence.
Buddhism in Korea
Buddhism in its original form was an esoteric philosophical formula for personal salvation through renunciation of worldly desires. Avoiding rebirth in the endless cycle of reincarnations which is a feature of India's Hindu religion, it sought to bring about the absorption of the soul of the enlightened into Nirvana.
Buddha taught that certain enlightened, compassionate souls, called bodhisattvas, would voluntarily delay their union with Nirvana in order to remain on earth teaching truth and enlightening others, presumably until every human soul had achieved Nirvana. Rebirth would cease completely, all souls would become absorbed into Nirvana, and the world would come to an end, all of which would take incalculable ones.
Buddhism originally was a religion without a god, consisting of a set of premises on how to avoid earthly suffering by following the proper procedures of what might be called spiritual mechanics or discipline.
With the spread of Buddhism from its point of origin in India, however, all sorts of local superstitions and theological systems were introduced into it, producing an elaborate array of deities, saviors, saints, heavens, and hells that the founder of the religion, Prince Gautama, had never mentioned. It was this type of Buddhism, called Mahayana or the Greater Vehicle, that appeared in Korea around 372 A.D., brought by missionary monks from India and China. In Korea, as elsewhere, it adopted regional peculiarities and predilections as it became firmly established.
No doubt Buddhism had to devise a system of rewards, punishments, and rules that would appeal to the simple and uneducated more than the esoteric, ascetic doctrines of the founder could. In a sense, Pauline Christianity with its neo-Platonic influences did the same thing for Christianity. But the Greco-Roman world in which Christianity spread was a more culturally homogeneous region in many respects than the East Asian area penetrated by Buddhism. Despite the fragmentation of Christianity, the diversity of beliefs in that religion does not approach the bewildering array of ideas and creeds that crop up under the title of Buddhism.
For example, almost every Korean Buddhist temple complex has a side chapel near the main worship hall containing a shrine to the mountain spirit, or tutelary deity of the site. This is usually depicted as an old man with a pet tiger. The symbol is derived both from Chinese Taoist tradition and its union with local animistic beliefs. The shrine is venerated along with the ceremonies in honor of Buddha that are performed at the temple, lest the local mountain spirit on whose land the temple stands should become angry.
At the time Buddhism entered the peninsula in the fourth century A.D., Korea was nearing the middle of the Three Kingdoms period and was soon to be unified as a single nation under Shilla. Primarily for geographical reasons, Shilla was the last of the three to be penetrated by foreign religion. Koguryo, the northern kingdom, was visited by a Chinese monk named Sundo in the year 372 A.D., and a dozen years later, neighboring Paekche, was a host to an Indian missionary, Marananta, who had come by way of China. Shilla was not exposed to Buddhist influence until about half a century later, and it was only in 528 A.D., after the martyrdom of the saintly monk Ich'adon, that it became legal to preach Buddhism openly.
Meanwhile, the new religion must have spread rapidly in the two western and northern kingdoms, apparently under royal patronage. Many temples and monasteries were constructed, and hordes of believers converted. So deeply rooted did Buddhism become in Paekche and Koguryo, that by the sixth century priests, scriptures, and religious artisans and artifacts were being sent to Japan, forming the basis of the early Buddhist culture there. Much of the prestige attached to the new cult in Korea, and its eventual adoption as the state religion in all of the three kingdoms, may be traced to Korea's respect for Chinese learning.
By the time Shilla unified the peninsula under one government in 668 A.D., Buddhism had been embraced as the state religion, though governmental systems were already being run along Confucian lines, with no conflict between the two.
Royal patronage during this brief golden age of Unified Shilla produced a magnificent flowering of Buddhist arts and temple architecture. The rapid fragmentation of the kingdom after less than 200 years did not harm the position of the Buddhist church, however. The succeeding dynasty which took power in 936 A.D. and founded the Koryo kingdom was even more enthusiastic in its support of the imported doctrine. Of the many famous monks and theologians of the shilla era, possibly the most influential was Wonhyo, the only clerical leader of that day who did not study in China. Wonhyo tried to unify the various Buddhist sects and sought to make the religion popular and applicable to the daily lives of the people. He wrote many books, and legend ascribes to him a brief love affair with a royal princess -- the son of their union supposedly the scholar who invented the system of writing Korean in Chinese ideographs called idu.
In contrast to that of Koguryo and Paekche, Buddhism in Shilla was not confined to the royal court. It was a religion of the people, expected not only to solve the fundamental problems of life, but also to promote the national interest. It flourished and led to the development of a brilliant culture. Most of Korea's tangible cultural assets are Buddhist-related, and Kyongju, the capital of Shilla, is virtually an open-air museum of Buddhist relics and art objects.
During the Koryo Dynasty, monks became politicians and courtiers, some of them corrupt or worldly in their interests. In the 13th century, the Mongols invaded Korea, conquering and ravaging the entire country except for the Hangang River estuary island of Kanghwado, where the king and the court took refuge. The reaction of the court was to implore divine assistance by undertaking the immense project of carving the entire bulk of Buddhist scriptures onto wooden blocks for printing. This is the so-called Tripitaka Koreana, still extant today and on display at the Haeinsa Temple. The set of 81,258 wood blocks, which took 16 years to complete, is considered one of the most outstanding masterpieces in the history of Buddhism. Nevertheless, this act of piety did not result in the defeat of the Mongols, who made Korea a vassal state. Naturally, because of the power that Buddhists held, they shared some of the blame for the national disaster, and from that era may be dated a definite and rapid decline in Korean Buddhism. To make matters worse, King Kongmin in the mid-14th century appointed a totally corrupt monk, Shindon, to a high official post, touching off protests among the Confucian literati of the court. The corruption of the temples and abuses of the monks were reflected in the earthy satire of village mask dance dramas, as well as in lofty essays such as "Anti-Buddhism" by Confucianist Chong To-jon, which declared: "The Indian religion is one which destroys morality and harms the country."
Though the Mongols had by then given up actual occupation of Korea, their influence on the government was still great. Since Buddhist power in the court continued unabated, the Buddhists were rightly or wrongly identified with the pro-Mongol faction. As a result, when Gen. Yi Song-gye staged a revolt and had himself proclaimed king in 1392, his policy was both anti-Mongol and anti-Buddhist. Though the new king, his family, and most of his successors were devout believers in Buddhism, all influence of the religion was removed from the government. Vast wealth and land holdings of temples were seized.
Throughout the history of Choson (1392 - 1910), the dynasty Yi Song-gye founded, Buddhism seemed to revive whenever politically powerful members of the royal family were Buddhists. However, efforts for Buddhist revival met with strong opposition from Confucian scholars and officials. Buddhist monks organized armies of monks to help defend the country during the Japanese invasions of Korea between 1592 and 1598 and won a number of decisive victories. Despite such contributions to national defense, official oppression of Buddhism continued until the last years of the Choson period. Buddhist monks were ranked in the lowest social class and were not permitted into the capital. The severe oppression drove the temples into remote mountainous areas, making Buddhism a monastic religion rather than a religion for laymen. This historic background accounts for the fact that major Buddhist temples are in relatively inaccessible areas.
Confucianism was the state cult or national religion during that entire era, and in an effort to prune and control Buddhism, several kings forcibly reformed and consolidated the various sects. When the Japanese took over as colonial rulers in 1910, there was some attempt to infiltrate Korean Buddhist sects or amalgamate them with Japanese Buddhist sects. These attempts by and large failed, and may even have resulted in a revival of interest in native Buddhism on the part of Koreans.
Japanese monks could marry, while the entire Korean Buddhist tradition had been one of clerical celibacy. Under Japanese influence, some Korean monks adopted the custom of marrying, and, after liberation in 1945, there were bitter legal battles for many years over the legitimacy of ownership of certain temple properties by the married and celibate sects. The celibates eventually won.
Buddhism has the largest following of all Korea's religions. As of 1991, there were 26 Buddhist sects and 9,231 temples with more than 11 million followers in Korea. Chogyejong is the largest of the sects. It is headquartered in Chogyesa Temple in Seoul and has 24 regional centers across the country.
Buddhism in Korea is undergoing a sort of renaissance stemming from a conscious attempt to adapt to the changes of industrialization, an increased interest among Koreans in traditional thought, and stricter standards for monks. Buddhist orders have set up urban centers for the propagation of the faith. The Tripitaka Koreana is being translated into modern Korean, foreign monks are receiving training at Korean temples and temples are being built in foreign countries.
Confucianism in Korea
Confucius, the Chinese sage who is assumed to have lived during the sixth century B.C., set up an ideal ethical-moral system intended to govern relationships within the family and the state in harmonious unity. It was basically a system of subordinations: of the son to the father, of the younger to the elder brother, of the wife to the husband, and of the subject to the throne. It inculcated filial piety, reverence for ancestors, and fidelity to friends. Strong emphasis was placed upon decorum, rites, and ceremony. Scholarship and aesthetic cultivation were regarded as prerequisites for those in governing or official positions.
Confucius bequeathed to posterity several books regarded as the essential classics, some of which he reputedly wrote himself, and others which he edited in definitive form from earlier versions. To these were added many volumes of commentary, some of them purporting to be dialogues between the master and his disciples, though in some cases these can be dated centuries after the sage's death.
Confucius himself never obtained a government post to test his theories, living most of his life as a wandering scholar-teacher. However, his successors were instrumental in creating a form of imperial government in China based on Confucian principles. This type of government, and the socio-political institutions it presupposed, lasted thousands of years. Although many alterations were introduced by later philosophers, Confucianism can lay claim to being the most influential system of human thought ever devised.
Confucian thought embraced no consideration of the supernatural, except for an impersonal divine order referred to as heaven. It left human affairs alone as long as relative order and good government prevailed on earth. In this sense, Confucianism was like early Buddhism, a religion without a god. But as ages passed, the sage and his principal disciples were canonized by later followers as a means of spreading their doctrines among simple, lesser educated people.
In both cases, the argument is endless as to whether either Buddhism or Confucianism was actually a religion in the Western sense. However, since they jointly or mutually filled the social functions of religion in Korea, it may be proper to admit them into this category for purposes of historical consideration.
Over the ages, wherever Confucianism spread within the vast Chinese sphere of influence, it worked in tandem with any local religion that provided a supernatural framework and cosmology. It did not come into conflict with Buddhism necessarily, except perhaps as a rival for royal patronage and political power on the temporal level. The date Confucianism became established in Korea is so early it cannot be even approximately pinpointed. No doubt, Confucian classics entered the peninsula with the earliest specimens of written Chinese material well before the beginning of the Christian era. Koguryo, Paekche and Shilla all left records that indicate the early existence of Confucian influence. In Koguryo, for example, there was a central Confucian university functioning by the fourth century A.D., showing a long and deeply-rooted tradition already in existence. The provinces had scattered private Confucian academies called kyongdang.
The neighboring kingdom of Paekche established similar institutions at about the same time. As usual, the southern kingdom of Shilla was later in importing the foreign influence. However, when it conquered and absorbed the other kingdoms in the seventh century A.D., its interest in Confucianism and other aspects of Chinese culture increased rapidly. Delegations of scholars were sent to China to observe the working of Confucian institutions firsthand, and to bring back voluminous writings on the subject. Though Buddhism was the state religion of Unified Shilla, Confucianism formed the philosophical and structural backbone of the state.
In Korea, Confucianism was accepted so eagerly and in so strict a form that the Chinese themselves regarded the Korean adherents as more virtuous than themselves. They referred to Korea as "the country of Eastern decorum," a reference to the punctiliousness with which the Koreans observed all phases of the doctrinal ritual. With the passage of centuries, this literal or fanatical adherence to Confucian thought gave rise to many factions, heresies, and hair-splitting disputes, even more pronounced, perhaps, than in China. Divergence in interpretation of Confucian doctrine naturally became associated with political power struggles and clan feuds, which eventually weakened the government.
Confucianism in Korea meant a system of education, ceremony, and civil administration. With the passing of the monarchical system in the early 20th century, only the first function remained important. However, the deeply ingrained Confucian mode of manners and social relations is still a major factor in the way Koreans think and act. The static and traditional aspects of Confucian philosophy have been considered by some an obstacle to the modernization of Korea, at least until fairly recently, although the stability and security encouraged by the system may have much to recommend them. Unified Silla lasted only about two centuries, giving way to the Koryo kingdom in the 10th century. The form of government did not materially change, except that the influence of Buddhism became more marked.
The institutionalization of Confucian principles of government proceeded with the adoption of the kwago or civil service examination. Thus, in theory at least, the government would be of a meritocratic system run by the best scholars selected through regional and national examinations held at regular intervals. These examinations were open to all, except for certain classes regarded as menial such as butchers, actors, musicians, and doctors. Those who passed the examinations were awarded posts commensurate with their abilities in either civil or military fields. The civil servants included magistrates, provincial governors, and courtiers, while the military naturally consisted of army and navy officers.
In theory, each man had to pass the examinations on his own merits. In practice, there was a system of hereditary nobility or yangban, holders of landed estates from the throne, who, because of their wealth and influence, could get official preferment without actually taking the exams.
Subject matter of the exams consisted entirely of Confucian classics and commentaries, plus the writing of poetry and essays on a given subject. Skill in the calligraphy of Chinese characters counted strongly in evaluations.
It may be argued that this type of rote learning was remote from the practical aspects of administration, but the effort necessary to learn the difficult Chinese material presupposed a rather high degree of intelligence. The time devoted to study did not leave much leisure for the development of bad habits.
However, things did not always work out ideally. The provincial administrator was underpaid by the central government and was thus tempted to accept bribes or to squeeze the poor. The courtiers in the capital, far from attempting to advise the king on the best way to run the country and earn the continuing approval of heaven, all too often squabbled bitterly for personal or factional advantage.
The most brilliant philosophers of Confucianism, while perhaps paragons of virtue themselves, usually devoted most of their efforts to devising highly abstract metaphysical systems to explain the universe and man's place therein, without the slightest attempt at empirical observation or experimental methodology.
When Buddhist influence in the Koryo court was blamed for Korea's surrender to the Mongols, and the dynasty that ruled Koryo was overthrown by the Yi, who banished Buddhism and restored political ascendancy to the Confucianist, the latter had a golden opportunity to achieve a renaissance. In the 15th and 16th centuries, under rulers who were generally enlightened or themselves scholars, there was considerable progress in social reform, modernization, and justice. It was an era of inventions, as represented in the development of an exact phonetic system for transcribing the Korean language, called Hangul.
Confucianism produced a new crop of philosophers starting in the 17th century with the Sirhak or Practical Learning school, whose concerns were less academic than utilitarian. Perhaps under the influence of Western ideas filtering into Korea indirectly via Jesuit missionaries then active in China, there arose a new interest among the literati in such matters as national productivity and defense, agriculture, trade, and the welfare of the people.
Unfortunately, shortsighted factionalism was still rampant in the royal court. When the Japanese invaded in 1592 and again in 1598, Korea was nearly defenseless and during the rest of the dynasty never recovered from the devastation. Instead, the nation adopted a policy of isolationism until the late 19th century. During these stagnant centuries, the dogmatic Confucian sects continued complacently to pick the dry bones of doctrine and suck the thinning blood of the country, while isolated reformers of the Sirhak group could only remonstrate and rage ineffectually.
Every year, the royal examinations were held in Seoul for those seeking high posts, and twice yearly the solemn spring and autumn rites honoring Confucius were held. The latter are still held at the Confucian university of Sungkyunkwan.
Then suddenly, with the usurpation of power by the Japanese in 1910, the Confucian system virtually disappeared, a process repeated in China two years later with the end of the last royal dynasty there.
While Confucius' teachings may have disappeared as a basis for government and administration, after so many centuries of indoctrination in these tenets, Koreans could hardly be said to have discarded the customs, habits, and thought patterns derived from the system. On one hand, there is reverence for age, social stability, and a respect for learning and cultivation. On the other there is idolization of the past, social rigidity, and an abstract unworldliness that prefers to see things as they ought to be rather than as they are.
Although there is no organized confucian church, there are Confucian organizations. Ancestral rites and memorial ceremonies in honor of outstanding Confucians are held regularly. Sungkyunkwan University in Seoul is the country's center of Confucianism and the site of a shrine to Confucius, where memorial ceremonies are held annually in spring and autumn. There are also over 200 hyanggyo, or Confucian academies with shrines, in Korea that teach young people traditional values and manners. They seek to make Confucian values more relevant to a modern, industrial society.
Catholicism in Korea
The surge of Christian mission activity began to reach Korea as early as the 17th century, when copies of Catholic missionary Matteo Ricci's works in Chinese were brought back from Peking by the annual tributary mission sent there to exchange gifts with the Chinese emperor. Along with religion doctrine, the material included aspects of Western learning such as a more accurate calendar system and other matters that attracted the attention of the Sirhak or Practical Learning School. By the 18th century, there were several converts or potential converts to the Western doctrine. No priests entered Korea until 1785, however, when a Jesuit, Father Peter Grammont, crossed the border secretly and began baptizing believers and ordaining clergy.
Another foreign priest, a Chinese Catholic called Father Chu Mun-mo in Korean, followed 10 years later, though the propagation of foreign religion on Korean soil was still technically against the law. A tolerant or lackadaisical administration resulted in a rather liberal view of the Catholic movement, though there were sporadic persecutions.
By the year 1863, there were 12 Korean priests who presided over a community of about 23,000 believers. At that point, with the coming to power of the xenophobic prince regent called the Taewon-gun, who blamed all Korean's problems on outside encroachments, persecution began in earnest. It continued until 1876, when the prince regent lost power, and Korea was forced to sign treaties with Western powers guaranteeing the safety of foreign missionaries and their freedom to engage in proselytizing.
In 1925, a total of 79 Koreans who had been martyred during the Choson Dynasty persecutions were beatified at St. Peter's Basilica, and in 1968 an additional 24 were beatified. During and following the Korean War (1950 - 53), the number of Catholic relief organizations and missionaries increased and the Korean Catholic Church grew quickly. In 1962, a Korean church hierarchy was established. By 1986, there were three archdioceses and 14 dioceses in Korea. The year 1962 was also significant for the Korean church because of the reforms authorized by the Second Vatican Council. The right to say mass in Korean and a joint Catholic-Protestant translation of the Bible contributed to the rapid growth of the Roman Catholic Church and its adaptation to Korean culture.
The Roman Catholic Church in Korea celebrated its bicentennial with a visit to Korea by Pope John Paul II and the canonization of 93 Korean and 10 French missionary martyrs in 1984. It was the first time that a canonization ceremony had been held outside the Vatican, and it gave Korea the fourth largest number of Catholic saints in the world.
Protestantism in Korea
During the late 19th century, insistent demands for commercial relations with Choson were made by the British, the Russians and other Europeans. After treaties with these foreign powers were signed, Protestant missionaries of several persuasions began to stream into Korea, the first being Dr. Horace N. Allen, who arrived in 1884. The Presbyterians and Methodists from the outset appeared most successful in gaining converts, and still have the most members among Korean churches. For some time around the turn of the century, evangelical churches felt that Korea was the best mission field in the world, and that with various emotion-filled revival movements sweeping the peninsula, it would not be long before Korea became a preponderantly Christian nation.
Dr. Spencer Palmer in his monograph Korea and Christianity pointed out the contrast between the missionary approaches in China and Korea. The first Jesuits who went to China noted the government was highly centralized and the mass of the people controlled from above. Therefore, their strategy was designed to convert the court and emperor to their beliefs, and thereby spread salvation to the whole country as if it were by fiat from above. The Chinese court respected the scientific learning of the Western missionaries, used the Jesuits as consultants or advisors, but politely declined, in most cases, to take the Catholic theology seriously.
When the Protestants arrived in China some time later, they did no better, for they came in conjunction with gunboat diplomacy and commercial exploitation. Few lasting converts are made at the point of a gun. The sincerity of missionaries can be doubted when many of them were observed getting rich in exploitative business dealings, including in some cases even supporting the notorious opium trade. In Korea, through a combination of luck and astuteness, the situation was completely different. The missionaries, especially the late-arriving Protestants, came as bearers of modern knowledge in many fields filling a vacuum which the isolated, indrawn Korean nation desperately needed filled if it was to attain the modernization that might assure its continued independence.
The missionaries arranged for the advanced education abroad of many of Korea's young potential leaders and stood shoulder to shoulder with patriotic resistance to Japan's encroachments upon Korean sovereignty. After annexation in 1910, many foreign missionaries gave direct and indirect assistance to the Korean independence movement, whose leadership -- by no coincidence -- was predominantly made up with Christian graduates of their own schools. These efforts continued until the Japanese expulsion of the missionaries in 1940 on the eve of World War II. There were innumerable cases of persecution of Korean Christians after 1910, as much for political as for religious reasons, since the Japanese regarded the Korean church as subversive to its own dominance over the peninsula.
Koreans have not forgotten the aid and comfort afforded them in their darkest hours by foreign missionaries, Protestant and Catholic alike, and the help provided by mission-sponsored modernization movements in everything from agriculture to sanitation. Since the Korean War, Protestant churches have experienced such phenomenal growth that today there are 70 denominations in Korea. The year 1985 was the centennial of Protestantism in Korea and more than 20 denominations and 24 organizations set up a Council for the 100th Anniversary of the Korean Church to plan various programs in memory of church pioneers and to bring the Protestant churches together as one church. Having been dependent for much of the first century of its existence, the Protestant churches placed new emphasis on service to others, both to Korea's poor in the form of such services as free eye operations and blood donations and to the rest of the world by sending out missionaries.