The Insurmountable Barrier of National Identity

President Park Geun-hye and Prime Minister Shinzo Abe marked the 50th anniversary of the normalization of bilateral ties by exchanging calls for progress and cooperation. The remarks (Park’s from the Japanese embassy in Seoul and Abe’s from the Korean embassy in Tokyo) are a sign of what could be – but probably won’t happen. While some will be quick to jump on the “can’t we just all get along?” bandwagon, the deep divide that prevents a “normal” relationship between the two Northeast Asian countries is not likely to be overcome by mere diplomatic gestures.

Bigger issues like wartime sexual slavery (the “comfort women” issue) and territorial disputes are enough to keep the two sides from meeting halfway, but one wouldn’t be wrong in assuming that deft political leadership could resolve such issues – an appropriate apology and/or recognition of Japanese wartime behavior and an amicable deal that diffuses territorial tension over places like Dokdo/Takeshima. The problem, however, is that these issues are only the tip of the iceberg. Insofar as South Koreans are concerned, anti-Japanese sentiment is an integral part of their national identity. This issue, while not new, has been getting more attention lately, and rightfully so.

In terms of recent scholarship, Scott Snyder and Brad Glosserman, in The Japan-South Korea Identity Clash, argue that national identity is key in explaining what’s wrong with contemporary Japan-South Korea relations. Despite having converging national interests, the ideational makeup of their respective national identities inhibits a cooperative relationship from developing.

Take Ahn Jung-geun, for example. He fatally shot Ito Hirobumi, Japan’s first prime minister and also the first resident general of colonial Korea, on a Harbin train platform in 1909. Ahn is a “patriotic martyr” in South Korea but a “terrorist” in Japan. How he is remembered is instrumental in the formation of a national identity. This, more so than the larger structural conditions so important to international relations scholars, is what defines Korea-Japan relations today.

While there are a myriad of ways to measure national identity, public opinion polls are probably one of the best – or at least the most efficient. And the polls paint a troubling portrait. According to a 2015 survey by Genron NPO and the East Asia Institute, the number one reason for South Koreans holding a negative impression of Japan is “Japan’s lack of remorse for historical invasions of South Korea.” Number one for the Japanese is “Criticism of Japan over historical issues.” Number two for both countries is territorial spats (specifically: Dokdo/Takeshima). All other reasons are basically insignificant.

Korean nationalism, it is worth recounting, was a reaction to Japanese colonization. In other words, the assimilation policies of Imperial Japan backfired (Koreans were portrayed as being of the same, if less civilized, racial group). Such policies had the effect of generating an ethnic concept of self among Koreans (especially, and arguably only, among the elites). Ironically, the racial politics of Imperial Japan generated a racial understanding of the national self in Korea; to be anti-Japanese was to be patriotic. This explains Ahn Jung-geun’s high stature in national (and nationalist) histories and discourse.

Again, one might simply say: Well, once political leaders cut a deft diplomatic deal on the sideline of some major international conference or, better yet, at a joint Korea-Japan summit, public opinion will be quick to change course – public opinion is, after all, quite volatile. This is a reasonable position, but there is reason to doubt public opinion will change quite so dramatically, especially when such opinion is not a reflection of political attitudes towards current public policies or a political party, but a reflection of national identity. Moreover, anti-Japanese sentiment is reproduced culturally, that is, outside of the political realm.

The movie Assassination, due out in late July 2015, is an example of the cultural reproduction of a national identity not supportive of Korea-Japanese reconciliation. The movie tells the tale of a band of independence fighters in 1930s colonial Korea. It sensationalizes – and commodifies – anti-Japanese struggle. And why not, producers might ask. It will sell tickets and it is patriotic. (It will also sell tickets because it is patriotic!) But, more than this, it is the reproduction of a national identity that is incompatible with the reconciliation of Japan-Korea relations.

Assassination is just one of several recent theatrical productions that preserve, celebrate, and reproduce the kind of national identity that valorizes struggle against (Imperial) Japan. The movie Hero Ahn Jung-geun (under production), a film that will retrace the days leading to the assassination and the time Ahn spent in a Lushun jail thereafter, is one further example. There’s also I Am You (2015), a play about Ahn Jun-saeng, Ahn Jung-geun’s son, overcoming his selfish anger to realize what sacrifice for a greater good means.

The point regarding cultural reproductions of anti-Japanese struggle and the assassination of Korea’s colonizers is that such efforts are social reproductions, separate from the words and deeds of officials, of a particular national identity – an identity that works against the cultivation of a “normal” South Korea-Japan relationship. It is precisely this seemingly insurmountable barrier to cooperation that leads some, such as Synder and Glosserman, to claim that the United States should play a more active role in facilitating the improvement of relations. Whether the U.S. can (or even should) intervene is an open question, but perhaps one worth exploring.