Showing posts with label Park Chung-hee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Park Chung-hee. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

Korean Sports, a History Written in Sweat

Quarterly the National Museum of Korean Contemporary History hosts a private evening tour for members and friends of members of the Royal Asiatic Society (www.raskb.com). And tonight they hosted their 10th private tour for the RAS; this temporary exhibition was on the history of Korean sports, a topic most relevant as in less than two months the 2018 Winter Olympics kicks off Pyeongchang. The outline of the exhibition is as follows:


PROLOGUE - KOREAN SPORTS BEFORE THE OPENING

From ancient times our nation had a unique sports culture. There were physical activities with music and dancing at religious rituals, such as Buyeo's younggo, Goguryeo's dongnaeng, and Dongye's mucheon, and there were activities for physical training related to martial arts, such as archery, riding, ssireum, soobahk, and chajeon nori. Other various traditional folk games also improved the physical strength and the cooperative spirit of the Korean people.  

hwalinsimbang
hunters on sleds
THE BEGINNING OF MODERN SPORTS IN KOREA

In the late 19th century, Joseon opened its doors to the world amid the plunder of imperialist powers. It was then that modern sports was introduced, also bringing change to the concept of the body. The courts of Joseon and the Korean Empire sought to build up the physical strength and and the hearts of the people by encouraging physical education. Many laws and institutions were established, and "Physical Education" was designated as a school subject.

Physical education during the colonial period took on a different mission -- as a tool for the restoration of national sovereignty. The colonial situation caused many limitations for sports activities of Korean, but with the change in Japanese colonial policies to show a little more flexibility after the March 1st Movement, there was some progress in sports for the Korean people, such as the founding of the Joseon Sports Association in 1920. 

In a situation in which Japanese imperialists oppression continued to intensify, sports contributed to the health of the Korean people, and Korean leaders encouraged sports, believing it would be able to contribute to the restoration of Joseon's national sovereignty. Sports gave courage and strength to a people that had lost their country.

1. Change in the concept of the body

In the traditional concept of the body in Joseon, there was the idea of eating well to maintain good balance and pursue longevity, but there was no concept of actively exercising the body to improve health. The traditional training of the body, in comparison to modern-day sports, was more like a spiritual exercise, in a sphere separate from physical recreation activities. Also, the concept of the body in traditional medicine or philosophy held the organismic perspective, which was greatly different from the Western mechanistic view of the body that was actively being introduced in the late 19th century.

2. Change in the Perception of Sports and the Introduction of Western Sports

After the opening of ports, the perception of physical education in Korea changed. In his Royal Edict on Education, King Gojong emphasized the importance of "intelligence, virtue, and physical fitness," which was a new kind of educational philosophy, placing the same level of importance on physical well-being as on intelligence or virtue. In many newly-established schools, modern sports were introduced. In each school, new subjects such as gymnastics were taught, field days were held, and many different sports activities were encouraged. Since the Hwangseong Young Men's Christian Association (today's YMCA) was founded in 1903, sports competitions were held. The Korean Sports Club, the first private sports organization to be created in Korea, often held competitions both inside and outside the organization, contributing greatly to the expansion of interest in sports.

3. The Establishment of the Joseon Sports Association and Sports Activities

In 1910, when the Korean Empire was annexed by Japan, sports activities run by schools and private organizations became limited. However, after the March 1st Movement, with Japanese colonizers implementing the so-called cultural rule, there were movements to establish sports organizations, started mainly by Koreans who had studied in Japan, and such movements bore fruit on July 13th, 1920, when the Joseon Sports Association was founded. The Joseon Sports Association hosted and supported many different sports events, such as the 1st Joseon Baseball Competition. A variety of sports games were spread, professional athletes appeared, and more people began to be interested in sports.

4. Korean Sportspeople during the Colonial Period

Many Joseon intellectuals and independence activities during the Japanese colonial period considered sports as a way to increase the power of the Korean people. Thanks to the Korean athletes who performed impressively even in competition with Japanese players, the people of Joseon could maintain their hope for independence. Korean athletes who had to participate as Japanese representatives ran with the spirit of Joseon in their hearts although the Japanese flag was on their chests.

1920 in Jeonju

THE TRANSITION AND TAKEOFF OF KOREAN SPORTS

On August 15th, 1945, with the joy of independence, Korean sports also began again. Sportspeople reestablished the Joseon Sports Association, and the Joseon Olympic Committee joined the International Olympic Committee. Korean athletes could finally compete in a competition under the nationality of "Korea" in the 1948 London Olympic Games.

After gaining independence, the Republic of Korea went through many political upheavals. Having emerged from the May 16 Coup in 1961 and continuing until 1979, the Park Chung-hee government developed state-led elite sports through sports policies. The Fifth Republic, which had emerged with a new military regime taking power, made many contributions to the sports sector by giving birth to professional sports and hosting the 1986 Asian Games and the 1988 Olympic Games, but there was also the aspect of using sports to disperse the people's burning desire for democracy.

1. Korean Sports after Independence

Right after independence, the political situation was in disarray, with the conflict between left and right ideologies. Amidst this situation, sportspeople were very active, reestablishing the Joseon Sports Association, organizing the Joseon Athletics Comrade Society, and hosting the "National Athletic Competition in Celebration of Liberation." During this period, political confusion and conflict caused some sports personalities to meet a tragic death, shocking people in the sports sector. Meanwhile, the Joseon Olympic Committee joined the International Olympic Committee, and in the 1948 London Olympic Games, a Korean delegation was sent to represent "Korea." Kim Seong-jip in weightlifting and Han Soo-am in boxing each won a bronze medal, the first Olympic medals in Korean history.

Suh Yun-bok wins the Boston Marathon (1947)

2. State-led Sports Promotion

In June 1950, the sound of gunfire rang across the Korean Peninsula. The destruction brought by the Korean War caused much suffering to sports people as well. However, while still in war, in 1952, the Republic of Korea participated in the Olympic Games held in Helsinki, Finland, and gave hope and courage to the Korean people who were amid ruins by winning two bronze medals. From the 1960s, sports developed with full support from the state. A large amount of the government budget was allocated to foster sports, and the Taereung National Training Centre was built for the development of elite sports. Sports activities greatly increased in quantity and quality, as teams for different sports were organized and various competitions were held.

President Park Chung-hee visiting the Taereung Training Center (1976)
3. Sports Activities and Sportspeople in the 1960s and 1970s

Korean sports domestically ensured its internal stability and internationally made many good records in overseas competitions. The Korea Sports Council became an overarching organization of the Korean sports sector, as the Korean Olympic Committee and Korea School Sports Association were integrated into it in 1968. The National Athletic Competition gained prominence in the 1960s, The National Athletic Competition gained prominence in the 1960s. Lee Sang-baek and Jang Gi-young were elected as members of the International sports sector. In the 1976 Montreal Olympic Games, Yang Jung-mo in wrestling won the first Olympic gold medal for Korea.

Taereung national skating rink (1971)
4. The Beginning of Professional Sports and Athletes

In the early 1980s, professional leagues emerged in sports such as baseball and football. Baseball was already popular due to the high school, vocational baseball boom and the winning of the World Baseball Championship Series (Amateur World Series), but it greatly expanded its influence after professional baseball emerged in 1982. In 1983, professional football and professional ssireum (Korean traditional wrestling), and from the 1990s, professional basketball and professional volleyball emerged. Such efforts allowed Korean sports players in various sports to enhance their performance.

ssireum wrestler Lee Man-ki, Jangchung Stadium (1984)

THE GLOBALIZATION OF KOREAN SPORTS

In the late 1980s, having achieved the results of procedural democracy, Korea also gained much energy in the sports sector. Hosting the 24th Summer Olympic Games in Seoul 1988, Korea showed its national strength and progress to the world.

Afterwards, Korean sports developed in many aspects, but the hosting of international competitions is most noticeable. After the Summer Olympic Games in 1988, Korean also hosted the 2002 Korean-Japan World Cup and the 2011 Daegu World Championships in Athletics. By hosting the 2018 PyeongChang Winter Olympic and Paralympic Games, Korea has achieved a grand slam in hosting the international competitions.

Hosting such events have developed national strength in sports, improved Korean athletes' performance, and increased the level of public interest in sports and better conditions for everyday sports.

1. Hosting the Asian Games and the Seoul Olympic Games

The 1986 Asian Games and the 1988 Seoul Olympic Games revealed the economic growth and impressive development of sports in Korea. Especially in the Seoul Olympic Games, the highest number of countries participated in the history of the Games; Korea displayed mature administrative capacity, successfully hosting the event, and also finished 4th in overall rankings. The images of Korea introduced overseas during the Olympic Games also became a chance to present how much growth Korea had seen in general.

official music record "Hand in Hand" from the 24th Olympic Games in Seoul (1982)
official Report of the 24th Olympic Games in Seoul (1988)
2. Achieving the Grand Slam in Hosting International Competitions

Having gained confidence from the 1988 Seoul Olympic Games in hosting international sports events, Korea went on to hold the 2002 Korea-Japan World Cup and the 2011 Daegu World Championships in Athletics, and is hosting the 2018 Pyeongchang Winter Olympic Games. The 2002 Korea-Japan World Cup was the first time in history that the World Cup was co-hosted by two countries, and it ended in success. Korea also performed well in the World Cup, reaching the semi-finals, and also surprised the world with its passionate, heated street cheering. In the 2011 Daegu World Championships in Athletics, however, public apathy towards the event and the low performance of Korean athletes indicated the challenges that needed to be overcome in the future.

Koreans wearing red and taking to the streets during the country-wide
(even world-wide wherever Koreans could gather) during the 2002 World Cup
3. Korean Athletes Active Overseas

There have been Korean sports stars in each generation who played remarkably well overseas, making Korea known to the world and giving great joy to the Korean people. In the 1960s and 1970s, when Korea's national power was relatively weak and the people had low confidence, the small number of athletes who were active overseas gave refreshing joy to the people. In the 1990s, many more Korean athletes began to perform well abroad, encouraging the Korean people who were in despair due to the IMF crisis.

4. Sportspeople Take on the Winter Olympic Games

The first time Korean athletes participated in the Winter Olympic Games was in the 5th Winter Olympic Games held in 1948 in St. Moritz, Switzerland. Since then, Korea has performed quite well in international winter sports competitions, winning its first medal at the 1992 Albertville Winter Olympic Games. Korea Produced many talented players especially in short track speed skating, achieving high ranking in the Winter Olympic Games. Korea has also performed well in other events such as speed skating and figure skating, making itself known worldwide as a country strong in winter sports.

All picture and text credit goes to the organization 
of the National Museum of Korean Contemporary History. 

Friday, October 6, 2017

UN Memorial Cemetery in Busan

The United Nations Memorial Cemetery in Korea (Busan) was established by the United Nations Command in 1951, and is a sacred site and home to 2,300 heroic dead who fell during the Korean War. In 1959 via an agreement between the UN and the Republic of Korea, the UNMCK was officially designated as a holy ground to pay tribute to those who died fighting for peace and freedom.


Interred in the UNMCK are members from 11 nations. Although soldiers of the United States represented the highest number of casualties, the US government takes action to return their fallen to the US and so only a tiny few American soldiers (36) who explicitly requested to be buried in Korea are interred in this UN cemetery.


Turkey has a special connection with the Koreas. Back before Turkey, the Koreas and China existed as countries, the tribes of the Hun (present-day Turks) and the Han (present-day Koreans) cooperated (and probably fought too) together on the steppes above what is now the broad expanse of China. When the empire of China started to form, they drove a wedge between the Huns and the Han and these cousin-tribes, though now separated from each other, both kept record of and remembered their shared histories.

When the Korean War started, the Turks remembering their "cousins", volunteered! The Koreans remembered too and they felt a deep connection and affinity to the people they could not communicate with verbally but felt tied to spiritually. 

This connection is still apparent particularly when the Turks are playing televised soccer or any other national sport. Koreans watch and yell and scream at their TVs to cheer them on! The Turks did likewise when South Korea played, and then won, the 2002 World Cup! For the upcoming Winter 2018 Olympics, the Turks and the Koreans will again make time to watch and cheer each other on!

So Koreans felt and still feel a keen sense of respect and brotherly-ness toward the Turks who volunteered and for the Turkish nation itself. 

One of the large areas to remember the Turks who fought and died during the Korean War.
A Turkish statue - one of the most respected pieces of commemorative art in the cemetery.
The memorial stone for the Philippinos killed in action (114).
The commemorative stone representing New Zealand, one of the first countries of the UN to respond to the call for help. More than 6,000 New Zealanders fought in the Korean War, 45 of them giving up their lives. 
The design of the memorial is based on a Maori woman’s chin tattoo, known as “moko”, the traditional sign of adulthood, and which indicated the wearer was able to bear pain and take on responsibilities. Here the design represents New Zealand as a mother of all who served their country in wartime. The strands running down side by side, army and navy, are shown merging with a third party, the United Nations. Along the sides of the memorial are 45 cuts, each marking the loss to New Zealand of a serviceman who died during the Korean War. The memorial is carved in granite sourced from Coromandel, NZ.

Central in the cemetery lie the Canadians, still under a wide blue sky, and commemorated by a soldier in uniform but with a daughter in arms and a young son standing beside, symbolizing a stance for family safety and for the peaceful future of the younger generations who are pure and innocent.

The Wall of Remembrance

The Wall of Remembrance is quite central to the cemetery and is the location where all who fought and died are commemorated. The countries are listed alphabetically on the large engraved memorial stones and each person who fought under a country's flag and gave up life is listed in alphabetical order. Ironically, the US soldiers are not listed under the country heading "United  States" but rather, because of the huge number of US soldiers who participated and died (more than 36,000), these soldiers are listed under the state they represented and the states are alphabetized among the other 15 countries with soldiers fighting in the war.


The pond in front of the Wall of Remembrance. In the middle of the pond raised on a pedestal burns an eternal flame, the symbol that states the memory of those who died will never be forgotten.
The name of every soldier who died during the Korean War is inscribed on the Wall of Remembrance. If the name is followed by an inscribed diamond, then that person not only died in the Korean War but is also interred in this UN cemetery.

 The Unknown Soldier's Pathway



The Unknown Soldier's Pathway
The Unknown Soldier's Pathway leads to the UN Forces Monument, which has copper plates prominently positioned on the sides. A copper plate with the number who fell is dedicated to each country with representative troops who fought in the war. The front of the monument has doves representing peace and the Korean name "유엔군위령탑" written by former president Park Chung-hee. This UN cemetery also has a large commemorative tablet dedicated to Park Chung-hee for expanding this park. Ah, the irony as the May 18th National Cemetery (a good historical overview on the circumstances of the cemetery here) has some kind of memorial stone for Park Chung-hee which gets some pretty ugly treatment, as explained to me when I went there a couple years back. The memorial stones for Park Chung-hee seem very respected here.

The Unknown Soldier's Pathway consists of 11 cascades of water, with 11 fountains, and having 11 pine trees paralleling each side of the cascades. The repetition of 11 signifies the 11 countries with representative heroes buried in the UNMCK.

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine: "I live crying tears of blood"

In various English publications, International Strategy Center (ISC) had a posting inviting up to 10 people to take an overnight historical tour of the “Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine and Site of Civilian Massacre”. This type of tour is totally different than the typical templestay experience, visit a tea plantation and learn about tea ceremony, take a bus to Seoraksan for a color tour or to Haeundae Beach to soak up the rays. I’ve been to Ganghwa Island to see the famous table-top dolmen, have gone to several festivals, and climbed the tallest mountains in most of Korea’s 20 national parks. What really is lacking in a lot of these excursions is the voice of the people—not the voice of the festival participants or the Korean tourists who are traveling somewhere for entertainment, but the voice of the average person who has seen history unfold and is living that history. For that reason, I was quick to sign up to be among the 10 privileged people who would go on the tour.

On October 17 the participants and two leaders from the ISC met at Dong Seoul Bus Terminal, and imagine my surprise to find out only one other person, James a young historian, besides myself, an anthropologist, had signed up. Where were all the people who want a very unique tour rich in history? Are people not signing up because nowadays trips are taken for pleasure and personal entertainment? Shouldn’t mental enrichment also be a drawing factor when choosing a weekend activity? So just the four of us boarded the bus to Gyeongsan. While the hard-working ISC volunteers slept, James and I read the provided literature on the mine—all of it related to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Korea and published in 2010.

Choi Seung Ho, publisher and president of Gyeongsan Sinmoon, met us at the bus terminal and became our guide. Choi is a pillar in the community, knowing and shaking hands with everyone; a dedicated man—according to a 2010 영남일보 위클리포유—who had educated more than 500 people in night-schools in the preceding 20 years. He is not related to the bereaved family members of the mine massacre but takes a very philosophical stance on why he wants exposure to what we learned was hidden history in the Truth and Reconciliation articles. “The last thing I can do for our children [future generations] is to give them their history, even if it is a shameful past,” he said. So before going to the mine itself, he gave us historical setting context to the mine massacre story by showing us the cobalt extraction site 1.5 kilometers away.

In the late 1930s the Japanese used Korean labor to mine the gold and silver in the mine, but with the discovery of cobalt and cobalt being useful for strengthening steel necessary for war munitions, cobalt became the more valued object of the mine. In 1945 the mine was shut down with the expulsion of the Japanese from Korea. Right after the onset of the Korean War, from July to September 1950, political prisoners were brought to the mine, beaten, shot, burned with flame-throwers, and thrown down the mine shaft, which was then dynamited to obscure evidence. I’ve read since that the largest civilian massacres occurred on the sites of former Japanese occupation.

The mine is kept locked to keep ghost-seekers out and to preserve the evidence. Already two excavations have taken place and bones for 400 or so people have been removed, but with the 3,500 people reported victims of the massacre, more than 3,000 are yet unaccounted for. Unfortunately, excavations are expensive and the bereaved families poor. Bags and bags of dirt with bone fragments and teeth line the inside of the mine, waiting for funding to further the excavation. Beneath the shaft where the largest number of bones have been excavated so far, the mud is oily with yellow adipose, even now, 65 years later. A trailer not far from the entrance stores several boxes of bones while the greater number are refrigerated for preservation at a research lab until funding can be obtained to continue the excavation. Bereaved families don’t know if their family members have been excavated yet, and DNA testing is too expensive, so they wait to excavate all before giving all wandering spirits a soul-cleansing ceremony to bid them cease their wanderings. But there is no money, no discussion, and no reconciliation. Therefore, there is no closure for the mine victims and for the bereaved families by extension.


As one Truth and Reconciliation article pointed out, “During the military dictatorships and repressive regimes of President Rhee Syngman, General Chun Doo-hwan, and President Park Chung-hee, these atrocities were kept secret,” and bereaved family members who organized in the 1960s were imprisoned. Korea has had a long history of guilt-by-association so for survival the bereaved family members became silent.

In 2000 under the presidency of Kim Dae-jung, a special law related to the Cheju Uprising, another Korean War massacre site, was passed and all bereaved families members were finally encouraged and invited to register as such. This registry as I understand it was only open for one year and has never been opened since. It is estimated that only 10% of the bereaved families registered for fear of continued guilt-by-association consequences that they had lived with all of their lives. Guilt-by-association prevented them from being civil servants which therefore discouraged them from studying as jobs opened to the educated were in general not opened to them. 2,500 of those massacred in the cobalt mine were classified broadly as ‘political prisoners’. A ‘political prisoner’ could be someone who spoke out against the ruling party, fed someone who spoke out, or even had money and therefore was viewed as being associated with the moneyed “reds”. Just by having a relative massacred in the mine placed the label of “red” on whole families by extension.

President Roh Mu-hyun allotted funding for excavations and made an apology, officially recognizing the illegal use of power in previous governments. However, this funding was cut short in the Lee Myung-bak presidency and at present the topic of funding or recognition is like a heavy tombstone under the office of Park Guen-hye. Elder daughter of the military dictator-president Park Chung-hee, Park Guen-hye presently seeks to use government office to write and enforce a “Correct History Textbook” in middle and high school classes across Korea. Many historians argue that replacing the current choice of eight textbooks with only one, which they feel will “whitewash” her father’s era of military rule among other historical events, will continue to hide historical truths and events that need to be academically discussed and presented. Korea disputes the Japanese textbooks which Koreans say distort history, and yet the current government is taking steps to change history via textbook also. Franklin P. Jones, 18th-century publisher, so aptly said, “Perhaps nobody has changed the course of history as much as the historian.” The question asked by many is, if history is distorted and events glossed over, how will future Korean leaders learn the mistakes of the past so as to aim for a better and brighter future?

In the course of the weekend I learned many disturbing things. First, the Internet is almost silent on the Gyeongsan Cobalt MineMassacre. What is published is a few short blog entries on the mine and massacre and a few articles put out by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Korea in 2010. Not much else exists in English. More surprising is the lack of information regarding almost all Korean War civilian massacres in Korea. According to Wikipedia, the list of civilian massacres in North Korea cites one, and in South Korea eighteen; the Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine Massacre, with its 3,500 victims, is not in the list, and yet, according to Na Jeong-tae, vice-president of the Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine Bereaved Families Association, 114 such bereaved families associations exist regarding civilian massacres in South Korea. The silence is deafening.

The Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine Bereaved Families Association wants reconciliation. They want investigations on the war crimes as to the reasons for the illegal killings; they want their fathers, uncles, brothers or other family members from the massacre to have their names cleared of “red” slurs, and their own tarnished names to be simultaneously restored. They seek funding to finish the excavations and be allowed Confucian respects to ceremoniously bury their relatives. They also want the bereaved families registry to be reopened so other families can join and be bonded through spirit and share in the catharsis of healing together. However, seeing no hope for change at the moment, Na Jeong-tae, who was able to receive only four years of education, said, “I live crying tears of blood.”

I wouldn’t call my weekend exciting and certainly not entertaining, but what I gained from going to the Gyeongsan Cobalt Mine was knowledge that most Koreans are not likely to have, especially if the Korean government does not acknowledge its own historical past. I listened to the voice of a marginalized people, and I came away with an understanding of family and truth as being treasured values as opposed to what seems to drive society nowadays: economy and politics. I think I can say that the time spent learning about this obscure history and meeting four members of an effectively silenced group, was one of the most meaningful experiences I’ve had in Korea. Meaningful because people spoke from their hearts about their experiences to survive, and meaningful because they learned to endure despite the pain of being marginalized and emotionally suppressed. I liked feeling their strength because it is this strength from enduring that has built Korea into the nation it is today.



Published on the International Strategy Center website in their World Current Report, Vol 10, October 2015 publication.

Saturday, May 9, 2015

Kwangju Massacre and National Cemetery

My first year in Korea was spent in Kwangju, and of the six and sometimes seven teachers at my institute, the majority were females because, even though the Kwangju Massacre had taken place 11 years previous and the American government was heavily blamed, emotions were still hot, and those emotions were sometimes aggressively projected on white males, which for the most part in Korea at the time were either American or Canadian, but same-same, they were white. Kwangju also had an American air force at the time, but the American men were careful about going about the city, especially because they had short hair-cuts and wore uniforms. They could be targeted if the mood turned aggressive, a possibility when people are angry and feel like getting retribution.

As I remember it, Kwangju was filled with demonstrations, not against the American government but against their own. Even though Korea had become a democracy on paper in 1988 with the people's election of the president, in actuality, a country does not become a democracy overnight and so the people were demonstrating. Rock, bricks, molatov cocktails (gasoline in coke bottles and lit but carefully carried before being thrown at police and riot police) were pretty standard. Kwangju was the city known as a place of demonstrations, and on the anniversary of the 1980 massacre, my Canadian friend and I along with an older male student went to the national cemetery to see what was happening. A lot was happening but I didn't dare use my camera, so our male friend took my camera and got many shots, one was even a shot of the burning of an effigy of Uncle Sam. My Canadian friend and I just stood there, trying to fit into the setting. Sometimes people approached us, many stared, but though a small amount of tension was present, there was no aggression. Instead, the feeling we got was curiosity about us too, who we were and why were we there.

So today, after many many years I returned to Kwangju. I had been back a few times in the early years of being in Korea. On my returns I always felt a little displaced became right after I left, the new Kwangju Express Bus Terminal opened, but in an area far from the downtown area I knew. I used to live right beside the old City Hall, but that even was relocated too, to the new downtown area with widely spaced roads and complexes of tall, fat modern buildings.

Anyway, as our bus passed through various parts of Kwangju, I was eagerly looking around for landmarks, key places I had been, but I recognized ... NOTHING! The whole fabric of the city had changed. The central part of the city was no longer in the area I had been, so I spent an afternoon feeling very confused. And when we got to the National Cemetery for the May 18th Democratic Uprising, I felt even more confused because I clearly remembered my experience at the National Cemetery in 1992. Well, come to find out that a few short years after I had left Kwangju, this new cemetery for those connected with the uprising was completed and all bodies reinterred here.

National Cemetery for the May 18th Democratic Uprising
"In Memoriam" sign: Here in the National Cemetery for the May 18th Democratic Uprising lie the meritorious persons who fought and sacrificed themselves during the Gwangju Uprising of 1980 and those laudable victims who died in the aftermath of the physical or mental injuries they sustained. 
The bodies of the victims were carried in garbage trucks and carts and buried without official recognition in the Old May 18 Cemetery (the 3rd graveyard of the Municipal Cemetery). 
With the completion of a 3-year consecration project (1994-1997), all bodies were moved and reburied together in this new cemetery. In accordance with the Act on the Honorable Treatment for Meritorious Persons of the May 18th Uprising, this cemetery, which had been managed by the Gwangju Municipal Administration, was promoted and renamed as the National Cemetery for the May 18th Democratic Uprising on July 27, 2002 by the Korean state. 
This cemetery will function as an education center, promoting the conviction that injustice and dictatorship should never return to this country, so that the spirit of May 18th may be engraved in the hearts of all people making this a sacred place for democracy forever.

The Meaning of the May 18 Gwangju Democratic Uprising (sign)
The May 18 Gwangju Democratic Uprising was a civil uprising against a military dictatorship conspiring to seize political power illegally, in which citizens demanded a new democracy in Korea. It was an eruption of the people's strong desire to declare themselves as masters of their own history and to defend their rights. 
The May Gwangju Democratic Uprising provided the momentum for other democratic movements in Korea and confirmed that the people, once awakened, are the driving force in the development of a democratic society. The Uprising was a legitimate and just struggle against injustice and dictatorship. 
In addition, the May 18 Gwangju Democratic Uprising played an important role in unveiling the immorality of the military regime of the Fifth Republic. Furthermore, it was a decisive movement which eventually brought an end to the illegitimate political system and gave birth to a truly democratic government, when for the first time in its history a peaceful turnover of political power from the government party to an opposition party occurred in February 1998. 
The Gwangju Democratic Uprising will be remembered as a people's struggle, which not only inherited the tradition of independence, democracy and reunification that had manifested itself in just historical struggles for human rights, but also introduced a new indestructible determination for justice in the modern history of Korea. 

Chronology of the May 18 Gwangju Democratic Uprising (sign)

A Prelude to the May 18 Gwangju Democratic Uprising: May 17-18, 1980
24:00 May 17: Emergency martial law declared nationwide
01:00 May 18: Paratroopers dispatched throughout Gwangju
10:20 May 18: The first clash between students and paratroopers at the front gate of Chonnam National University.
Escalation of Demonstrations against the Government Troops: May 19-20, 1980
08:00 May 19: Martial Law Enforcement Headquarters arrested 549 leaders and participants in the uprising.
14:20 May 20: Regular citizens joined the demonstrations
The Rage of the People Explodes: May 21, 1980
11:20 May 21: Talks between Martial Law Forces and Citizen's Resolution Committee began
13:00 May 21: Talks broke down. Paratroopers fired indiscriminately into groups of unarmed citizens.
17:00 May 21: Paratroopers withdrew from Gwangju
Autonomous Citizen's Community, Gwangju: May 22-26, 1980
21:00 May 22: May 18 Resolution Committee began to maintain public order
09:35 May 23: Resolution Committee Headquarters established in the Provincial Hall and a Gwangju Citizen's Rally was held
22:00 May 25: Establishment of the uprising leadership
The Last Struggle: May 27, 1980
06:30 May 27: Martial Law Forces occupied the Provincial Hall. The May 18 Gwangju Democratic Uprising came to a bloody end as Martial Law Forces suppressed demonstrators.


Victims of the May 18 Gwangju Democratic Uprising & Its Present Condition

Victims: 4,493
Killed during the uprising: 165 (May 18~27, 1980)
Missing: 66
Arrested and wounded: 4,262
Unrelated: 5 
According to Wikipedia, the burial capacity of the cemetery is 784 and currently the cemetery contains 482 burials.
    Establishment of the May 18 Cemetery
    May 13, 1993: The May 13th Special Presidential Declaration
    Nov 26, 1993: The location of the cemetery chosen
    Nov 1, 1994: Construction work begins
    May 4, 1997: Re-interment of victims
    May 13, 1997: Completion of cemetery
    July 27, 2002: Recognized as a National Cemetery
    The May 18th Memorial Monument, 40 meters in height, is designed on the traditional flagpole (dangganjiju), a design perhaps to invoke the forever waving of a flag. The concept of this design expressed new life and survival with the "seed of hope" in the centermost position. Overall, the ovular sculpture represents "resurrection". 
    The typical altar and incense in front of a grave.
    In this cemetery the prayer are for all. White chrysanthemums, the flower signifying death and mourning,
    can be placed on the altar also.
    picture by Witold Zukowski

    Every grave is marked, the front of the tombstone tells the name of the person, the sides and back tell some of his/her biography, family and perhaps the role he/she had in the uprising.
    Here lies a grave to an unidentified body. The picture of the mugumghwa, the national flower, is used instead of the person's face. No name, therefore no family connections, sometimes no known role in the uprising. A very sad tomb. A friend's sister never came home. Perhaps she is one of the unnamed, unidentified.
    ________________________________________________________
    _______________________XXXXXXXX_____________________


    May 18, 1980: An eyewitness account of the Gwangju Massacre
    Published in the Korean Observer, May 19, 2015, by Kristen Alice


    It was May of 1980, and Na Byung-un didn’t realize that he was about to become a part of history. Working at a Billiards hall in Gwangju, and attending nighttime classes to prepare for a university entrance exam, he’d become acutely aware of the creeping increase in government control over the past several years.

    At that time, “the dictatorship was the worst,” he remembers with a forlorn look in his eyes. Na was a survivor of one of the most brutal incidents in modern South Korean history: The Gwangju Democratic Uprising, also known as the Gwangju Massacre.


    Strolling along the glittering streets of almost any major city center, it is easy to forget that in a not-so-distant past, South Korea was a desperately poor country under a dictatorial military regime.

    Before the gleaming rows of cafes serving up 6,000 won ($5.5) fancy lattes, fields of rice stretched as far as the eye could see; before flashy K-Pop concerts, there were military juntas and martial law.

    In those days, South Korea’s GDP per capita was just under $4,000 per person, or less than one-sixth than that of the United States, according to World Bank data. As a country with few natural resources recovered from Japanese colonization, it struggled to find its footing politically, economically, and socially. This was especially true in Gwangju, a city nestled in the one of the poorest regions of South Korea, agricultural South Jeolla Province.
    Na Byung-un
    “People were very, very poor, and they led miserable lives.” Na recalls. “They didn’t even have one dollar.”

    In addition to poverty, a thick fog of fear had descended upon the peninsula. In a country where speaking out against the government could land you in prison, few people dared disturb the peace.

    According to Na, there was a rumor that those who criticized the government would be kidnapped and murdered in secret. For many, freedom was the only thing they had left, a precious commodity not to be risked without very good reason.

    In October of 1979, dictator Park Chung-hee was assassinated, and the Korean people harbored a faint glimmer of hope that it would signify a new era of democracy. However, that hope was short-lived, as a military coup, led by Chun Doo-hwan, seized control.

    One of the priorities of this new regime was to stamp out any emerging signs of dissidence, and keep Korea clenched tightly in the military’s iron grip.

    Na recounts, “People had been uprising and protesting against dictatorship continuously under Park Chung-hee and Chun Doo-hwan. They put innocent people into prison and oppressed the masses by force of arms. So people all rose up. It was the uprising of the public.”

    On May 18, 1980, martial law was expanded throughout South Korea. Universities were shut down and political speech banned. Protests began breaking out around the country.

    Approximately 50 students, who were blocked from entering the Chonnam National University campus, began protesting. In response, paratroopers were dispatched, and began violently beating the student protesters.


    Some protesters responded by wielding sticks and throwing rocks to defend themselves from the excessive force. The military shot back by assaulting men, women, and children, regardless of age, whether they were protesting or not.

    Over the next few days, the protests grew exponentially. Taxi drivers formed a brigade and drove to the Provincial Office, where they blocked the military from assaulting citizens, and transported injured people to hospitals. Some drivers were pulled from their cars and beaten or killed.

    “All Gwangju citizens were involved in the protests, because all of us were together as one. Everyone thought we had to stand against injustice,” says Na. “Even the police were on our side. They changed into normal clothes at night and joined us.”

    The government’s response grew even more violent and oppressive. Transportation and communication in and out of Gwangju were cut off, effectively isolating the city from the rest of the country.

    The government labeled Gwangju residents as Communists and North Korea sympathizers, and referred to the pro-democracy marches as riots. Citizens were trapped inside the city, and military blockades prevented civilians from getting in or out.

    Residents of other regions of South Korea had no idea what was going on in Gwangju. On May 21, protesters took over the Provincial Office, and the military opened fire on civilians.


    Na himself was attacked by airborne troops while he was working on the second floor of the billiards hall. He was bashed repeatedly with a baton, and dragged to the ground floor, where soldiers tried to load him into a military truck.

    However, while the troops were trying to force him inside, some students began angrily throwing stones at them. Distracted, they began chasing the students. At that moment, Na recalls, “Some people appeared and helped to pass me over a wall, where the troops couldn’t see me. Some women protected me. That is why I am now alive.”

    The protests continued daily in Gwangju, and spread to surrounding cities, including Mokpo, Naju, Hwasun, and Haenam until May 27. In the early morning on that date, the military violently stormed the city, using tanks and helicopters to reclaim the Provincial Office.


    According to the May 18 Memorial Foundation, during those ten days 154 people were killed, 74 went missing, and 4,141, including Na, were injured. Other sources, however, place the numbers even higher, and according to the UNESCO Memory of the World Register, 102 more people died later from their injuries.

    Life never went back to normal for Na. He returned to his hometown of Naju, where he lived with his family and focused on his recovery. He quit school, instead deciding that he would make money to support his family. However, he knows that his involvement in this movement was not in vain.

    “Because of Gwangju’s May 18 democratization movement, Korea became more democratic. It served as a momentum to bring justice to all in the world,” he noted.

    Na believes that the government’s response to these protests was intended to spark feelings of regionalism, since a divided populace would be easier to control. He shares some final advice with us. “Regionalism,” he says, “is the center of corruption.”

    He explained that regionalism must never happen in any country, because it makes life hard for everyone.

    “The nation should watch the government, and the government should care for the nation. When the government does something wrong, people should criticize them,” Na points out.