A History of Korea (70 page)

The cultivation of Korean officials became perhaps the most overlooked major ingredient in the Japanese takeover. Upon annexation, the royal family and prominent elites were eased into submission through lavish monetary sums, nobility titles, and sinecures. The more reliably friendly Koreans were appointed to high positions in the colonial government, continuing a pattern that had begun in 1907, as noted above. The top Korean appointees after 1907, especially those to the provincial governor positions, had in fact spent most of the previous decade in Japan, having fled Korea following the collapse of the Kabo Reform government in early 1896. Their time in exile had only served to harden their belief that the only hope for their country lay in accepting Japanese direction, and upon their return to their homeland they facilitated this effort. One did not need this formative experience in Japan to concur, however, as demonstrated repeatedly by the top Korean cabinet officials in the 1904–10 period—those who had signed the 1904 and 1905 treaties, colluded to transfer appointment power to the Residency General in 1907, and formally handed over the government in 1910. The central Korean figure in the latter two steps was Prime Minister Yi Wanyong, still reviled today as Korea’s Benedict Arnold.

Yi Wanyong, however, represented only the tip of the collaborationist iceberg, for thousands of Koreans in all spheres of life acceded to the takeover process. Yi was actually related to Korea’s royal family; he could count Emperor Kojong as a brother-in-law. While a tragic irony at one level, this was emblematic of the messy ties and blurry line between the two sides of resistance and acceptance, and of the less than clear-cut choices that many Koreans faced. While many prominent public figures, such as the
historians and educators noted above, dedicated themselves to enlightening people in the ways of the modern world for the cause of preserving autonomy, others believed that saving the nation required the relinquishment of political independence. In addition to the maneuverings of Yi and other elites, there were also popular movements promoting the idea of joining the Japanese empire during this period. The most conspicuous of these groups was the
Ilchinhoe
, or “Advance in Unity Society,” which counted tens of thousands of members from a wide range of backgrounds, with many formerly belonging to the Tonghak religion and social movement. Originally stirred into organizational activity in the midst of the Japanese entrance into Korea for the 1904–5 war, the Advance in Unity Society’s primary goal was to agitate for a greater popular voice in government affairs, especially regarding taxation. To accomplish this, the leadership, led by a curious figure named Song Py
ngjun, embraced the annexationist cause in very public campaigns. It hence benefited from and contributed to the ongoing flowering of publishing for educational and political purposes. Although Song himself gained high office, however, the Advance in Unity Society ultimately failed to exert any lasting influence, even after annexation, for the very state power that it tried to curtail became the necessary instrument for implementing foreign rule.

The growth of the state both drove and reflected the dynamics of the Japanese takeover, not only in enforcing a militarily supported conquest, but in penetrating Korean society so deeply that overwhelming force proved mostly unnecessary. The “soft” features of the takeover, in fact, might have had a greater and more lasting impact in naturalizing foreign rule: changes to the financial and banking sectors; the government investments in communications and transportation infrastructure; the construction of schools and technical training centers; and the establishment of hospitals and other mechanisms to improve healthcare and hygiene—including, stunningly, a protectorate-period effort to enforce medical exams for prostitutes! To be sure, all of these measures were aimed first and foremost at facilitating a transition to foreign rule, catering to the Japanese migrants flooding the peninsula, and eventually
enhancing colonial exploitation, but these steps also improved the welfare of many Koreans as well. The majority of Koreans—those in the countryside—of course felt little to no change in their daily lives, but they likely sensed few consequences from the political changeover either. Many Koreans simply had little incentive to resist the takeover.

Did Koreans, then, “sell out” their country? For two large groups, this might have been the case: the thousands of officials, like Yi Wanyong and Song Py
ngjun, and other direct beneficiaries who provided legal and institutional assistance; and many, mostly lesser-known Koreans whose actions hinged not on payments but rather on implicit promises and hopes for material improvements and “enlightenment.” But one could argue that many societies had to make such a Faustian bargain, often absent of considerations of national political autonomy, in coming to grips with the economic and political dislocations of the modern era. At least the Koreans, whether in accommodation, resistance, or someplace in between, claimed a role in determining their own fate amidst the maelstrom of external forces pushing upon them. They would undergo another such trial of autonomy and modernity following their liberation from Japanese rule in 1945.

17

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

The Long 1920s

CHRONOLOGY

1919 March	The March First independence uprisings
1919 April	Convening of the Korean Provisional Government in Shanghai
1920	Commencement of the “Cultural Rule” policy by colonial government
1920	Inaugural publication of the first two native Korean newspapers of the colonial era
1921	Special exhibition of Na Hyes k’s paintings in Seoul
1925	First issue of the journal, New Woman
1927	Beginning of Na Hyes k’s extended visit to Europe
1929	Return of Na Hyes k to Korea, divorce from husband

OPENING OF A SPECIAL EXHIBITION OF NA HYES
K’S PAINTINGS, 1921

On March 18, 1921, a special exhibition of Western-style paintings opened in downtown Ky
ngs
ng (Keijo), the official name of the Korean capital of Seoul in the colonial era. It represented the first such show dedicated to the works of a single painter, but notably, the artist was a young woman in her mid-twenties, Na Hyes
k. Perhaps more remarkably, just two years earlier Na had been imprisoned for five months for having participated in the March First Independence Movement, a mass uprising against colonial rule that sparked bloody reprisals. Na’s quick social rehabilitation and ascent to artistic distinction owed much to the rapid changes that enveloped the lives of Koreans at this time. Her new husband, for one, was a rising young Korean lawyer with connections to the upper echelons of colonial politics, business, and publishing. Indeed the sponsors
of her exhibit were the two official government newspapers of the time, one published in Japanese and the other in Korean. The success of this exhibition also demonstrated how dramatically the socioeconomic transformation of colonial Korea facilitated the rise of groups and individuals who relied upon new opportunities and different forms of social identity and collectivity.