Chapter VIII
The Coming of Christianity

 As peace was restored a movement toward renewed life began. The first sounds that rose from the ruins were calls for freedom. The resistance to Ch'ing began during the war and continued beyond its end. Notable was the demand to reject the Chinese peace offer. The rejection of peace was first voiced in the fort of Namhan while an envoy from Ching was pressing for surrender and the destiny of the nation hung in the balance. It was indeed a voice issuing as if from a pile of dead bodies. A dying soldier letting out a feeble cry does not mean to get up and fight again. All he does is make it known that he has survived the fierce battle just ended and leaves victory to his comrades still able to continue the struggle. A first cry for freedom is always like that -a declaration from among the dead.

 After the declaration there came action, this time by King Hyojong. Son of Injo, he had spent his younger days as hostage at the Ch'ing court and had known bitterness at first hand. Returning home as king, he began seriously planning a northward expedition. Defense funds were saved, war horses were kept ready. While awaiting an opportunity, the king awarded his prime minister Song Si-yeol with a fur-lined coat, his general, Yi Wan, with a set of armor.

This was the first such plan since the founding of the Yi dynasty. The plan met a setback as that fellow Kim Cha-jom secretly informed Ch'ing of it. Planning went on nonetheless. A song by Hyojong showed what frame of mind he was in:

The pattering of the rain falling on the river,
What is so amusing about it
That the whole hillside of blades and blooms
Should go wild with laughter?
But how many more days of spring wind?
Let them laugh their fill while they can.

 The will of heaven was not to be fathomed. While Hyojong waited, hoping there remained not many "days of spring wind,' Ching, which went on prospering, obliged him with no chance. Later kings kept the plan alive, but Ching continued to hold her sway across Asia. General Yi Wan deplored the impossibility of executing the plan:

Were the mountain in the Lake of Tungt'ing leveled
The lake would be much larger.
Were the laurel in the moon cut down
The moon would be much brighter.
Alas, for there is no way to realize my plan.

It seemed as if history was testing Korean endurance. Freedom consists not in freedom gained but in freedom yet to be gained. When Koreans would finally free themselves from Ching's yoke was not certain, but certainly they had at least the idea, the will to throw it off.

The call for new life was also the call to end partisan feuding. Delivery from the foreign yoke was urgent but the foreign foe would not disappear just by shouting at him, nor could he be driven off by a military plan alone. A restoration endeavor limited to a military plan will be superficial and shortlived. A "how-many-more-days-of-spring" approach will not work. For such an endeavor to be effective, it must go deeper and involve a striving for national moral reform. Freedom lies inside, not outside, of one. The fervor for a northern expedition which reached its peak under Hyojong began to cool within a few decades. It was not based on a deep moral and religious enthusiasm.

By the time of King Sukchong, the culture mellowed and literature of an entertaining nature flourished. Literary activity for pure entertainment is, if anything, like a defective seed that quickly germinates only to shrivel under the sun, a step backward in the movement for national revival. For stirrings of freedom to succeed, a reinvigorated morality in national life and a general innovative atmosphere had to prevail in society. To achieve this, partisan feuding, the first and foremost abuse sapping national energies had to go. Failing that, all policies for home or abroad would not get beyond empty words. A movement to put an end to entrenched factionalism was started.

The reign of Yeongjo saw beginnings of this endeavor. Two capable kings, Yeongjo and Cheongjo, did much toward strengthening the nation. For some eighty years between them they strove to eradicate the feuding. Often in his later years Yeongjo urged his crown prince, later to be King Cheongjo, to attend to administration, calling his particular attention to the factional feuding reminiscent of Northern Sung of China, which also was beset by ceaseless feuding against a background of blossoming culture. Later Cheongjo, named his bedchamber "room of impartial peace;' which derived from a passage in the book of odes, Shih-ching (Korean: Sigyong): "In the royal way there is no partiality or favoritism. The royal way is even and peaceful " But now the Korean partisan struggle was so deep-rooted as not to be easily eradicated.

Another stirring of new life was the call for a better knowledge of Korea. The cultural development under the two kings, Yeongjo and Cheongjo, is and Mencius, exhausted the list of ancient sages. Evolution of their own scholarship was simply beyond their imagination.

Earlier, in the period of the Three Kingdoms, Korea was yet to be an intellectual slave, and its thought, scholarship and art had something originally Korean. Literature and relics were wiped out by repeated war, and things properly Korean that survived were removed on the wrong assumption that they were crude and vulgar. None of what, Koguryeo and Paekche must have produced, no doubt something memorable, remains, for both countries were defeated in war. Silla, though also ending in defeat, left some things which give us some insight into what its culture was like. One is the hwarang, a body of original thought and scholarship; a passage in an inscription by Ch'oe Ch'i-weon on a tombstone, "The country has a mysterious, occult way," gives a faint glimpse. Another is Buddhism as interpreted by Weon Hyo, who grasped Buddhism in terms of uniquely Korean thought. A third is S61 CIYong's understanding of Confucianism; although his theory has not come down to us, we can infer this from the fact that he read Confucian classics in the Korean vernacular and devised a writing system known as idu. Ever since Silla unified the country with assistance from Tang China and began adopting Chinese institutions, much of indigenous culture fell in disrepair. By the time the country came under Kory6 rule, scholarship had become, with the adoption of the Chinese civil service examination system, a program to train candidates for the examination. Elimination of traditional Korean ways was accelerated following the Myoch'eong rebellion. Scholarship now was study of Confucianism. Even then some of the old thought and ways lingered on until the end of the Koryeo dynasty.

The last vestiges disappeared with the rise of the Yi dynasty. Inasmuch as scholarship is in essence a reflection of the nation's spirit, there could not have been vigorous scholarly activity when, having lost all sense of freedom, Korea now contented herself with being a dependency of China. Development in learning is usually accompanied by economic stability and a life secure enough to provide leisure. Under the kind of government in the Yi period whose business it was to exploit the peasantry, no economic growth was to be expected, nor could there be any hopesaid to be the highest point reached since Sejong. Achievements were many in institutions, industry and scholarship, the last outshining the rest. The significant effort in scholarship was the study of Korea. Borrowing dregs of China's culture and reselling them had been all that Korean scholars had been doing since Kory6. Scholarship lacked distinctly Korean originality. Even better scholars thought of China as the whole world. For them the kings were Wen and Wu; Confucius of free research. Scholarship in Yi Korea was a thing for the ruling class only, a political tool, a means to advance one's political fortunes. In short, loss of a national spirit of independence and abuse of the populace prevented the development of scholarly activity.

Set over against the ruling class were groups of scholars who chose to stay out of government service and who could have preserved whatever survived of old spiritual and intellectual traditions. Alas, they too suffered a loss of independent spirit, and they too failed to free themselves from the curse of debilitating partisanship. Then the two wars dealt their blows. Koreans began to feel the need to rediscover themselves.

The Silhak, or "School of Practical Learning" emerged in keeping with this new trend. Two aims characterize the School of Practical Learning: to rediscover the things proper to Korea which had been abandoned, and to search for ways to rally the nation by shifting attention from the theoretical and formal to the practical and useful. We find in Mr. Ch'oe Nam-seon's A History of Korea:

Under Hyojong and Hyeonjong, when Neo-Confucianism and study in preparation for the civil service examinations predominated, Yu Hyeong-weon pioneered a new scholarly trend. He devoted the better part of his life to investigating the realities of Korea and he wrote books. Notable among his works is Pangye surok, a study of traditional institutions and practices, particularly stressing landholding systems, with recommendations for economic reforms. Reaffirmed by Yi lk, who lived through the reigns of Sukchong and Yeongjo the new scholarship of relevance to real needs through verification gained wider ground, from the time of Yeongjo onward. Preference for practical matters with attitudes of review and reevaluation was now a common attitude not just among scholars themselves but more broadly among men of letters as a whole. A high tide of Korean scholarship was sweeping through the land. Representatives of this school were: An Cheong-bok, author of the Tongsa kangmok (a history of Korea, Kija and subsequent periods) and the Yeolcho t'onggi (a chronicle, Taijo through Yeongjo of the Yi dynasty); Sin Kyeong-jun of the Kangyeok-chi (a geography of Korea), the Sansu-gyeong (a geography), the Hunmin-jeongeum tohae (the Korean alphabet illustrated); Yi Man-un, chief compiler of the Munheon pigo (a comprehensive review of government institutions and functions); Yu Teuk-kong, who wrote the Kyeongdo chapchi (on customs and annual events marking the seasons), the Sagun-ji (a geography of four counties), the Palhae-go (a study of Pohai); Han Ch'i-yeon, author of the Maedong seoksa (a history of Korea); Yi Chung-hwan of the T'aengni-ji (a geography of Korea, advising on selection of better places to live); Yi Keung-ik of the Yeollyeosil kisul (a collection of unofficial histories, diaries, essays and private papers by different authors); Chepng Hangnyeong, who prepared the Tongguk-yeojido (a map of Korea). With the appearance of Chepng Yag-yag (Tasan), a scholar of wide erudition under Cheongjo, the Silhak school reached its peak of vigor; Tasan is credited with the Kyepngse yup'yo (a historical review of government institutions and their abuses, with recommended reforms); the Abang kangyepk-ko (a study of Korean geography); the P'ungsok-ko (a study of customs and ways); the Uihak-yogam (a manual of medicine); the Yeoyudang-jip (collected works).

  As the new life movement was now in full progress, it shifted from political liberation to moral housecleaning, from a passive campaign for purification to a more positive moral strengthening. Looking back, we see that it was an impressive start which a major nation of the East made in the remote past. But it soon began to veer off onto the wrong path and has continued its wanderings ever since.

Nothing short of a miracle can renew an age. A miracle is possible only with a spirit working internally, rather than hoping for something from the outside. It comes down to a matter of religion. Note the example of Europe's new life movement, which had not borne fruit until the Reformation was achieved. Let us see how it was with religion in Korea.

Neither Buddhism nor Confucianism was in a position to offer that something which was needed for renewal. Since reawakening means a reawakening of the people, a religion for the people was needed, and neither of the two existing ones could have fit the bill. Both had been divorced from the people as both religions became the property of the privileged and were corrupted along with them. Out of a Buddhism hardened with formalities or a Confucianism of the rigid literati mentality nothing new could have been created, no matter how hard one tinkered with them to make them over. Nor were they capable of generating the needed new conviction, the new strength, the new life that alone could have captured the hearts of the people so that they could act in concert. A new religion had to come, as fresh morning air comes in to rouse everyone in the house to a new day's activity.

Tan'gun Korea rose with the ancient religion of worshipping heaven. Kija Korea rose with Confucianism which had just arrived. The culture of the Three Kingdoms was shaped by Buddhism. But now all three religions had become rotten. Where then would the new religion come from?

As we are about to tell the story of how Christianity came to Korea, we should briefly see how things were elsewhere in the world. The world had ent red a new age in a sense different from what it was before. The 15th and 16th centuries mark a unique period, unique because of the rediscovery of humanity, the movement for freedom, the coming into being of modern society. What strikes us as even more amazing as we ponder the great era is the meaning of history underlying all this. For what purpose was the self-awakening and freedom and a more organic society? Once at the turn of the first century the great apostle Paul delivered an eloquent address on Mars' Hill in Athens, that source of western civilization:

". . . hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face
of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the
bounds of their habitation; that they should seek the Lord.'

The rise and fall of nations and states, the changes of times, according to Paul, are all for a purpose. What is the purpose? To have humankind seek God, to have them know Him. This is an amazing thought. Indeed, there had been profound and comprehensive philosophies and religions expounding the meaning of the universe and humanity, but no philosophy of history has been as sweeping in its breadth of scope as this stupendous declaration in its encompassing all of humanity and all ages. At the time of its delivery, this declaration seemed more like fantasy.

Since the beginning of human history each nation had lived apart, thought for itself: the east was separate from the west. Each nation was apart, isolated in its own circle of culture. In order to bring humanity together into a spiritual order, free will and independent personalities were needed and also a unified society based on closer organic and interlocked relations. Hence, the Renaissance, the Industrial Revolution, and the Reformation. To make these possible the Crusades, scientific inventions, geographic discoveries were necessary. Such is the meaning of the 15th and 16th centuries.

There was no freedom so long as the Satan of the Vatican, wearing his triple-tiered tiara, hung magic words of Christendom from the necks of men. As people went about busily conducting the Crusades, the magic words had lost virtue. The more passionate southern Europeans were the first to raise a flag of protest in behalf of people against the Church. Finally protests spread across the Alps to the dense forests of Wittenberg. By the time the torch of "salvation by faith" was raised and the spirit of freedom proved a force which no longer could be silenced, the other aspect of the terrestrial globe thus far hidden was brought to light by a man of deep convictions, Columbus, the son of a Genoan sailor. With this, world history entered its main chapter. A world-wide propagation of the Christian faith began.

Acting as faithful servants, Portugal working her way west and Spain east, the entire globe as the goal, a propagation effort was launched in earnest. The purpose consisted in finding gold and exploiting natives, not in spreading Christianity. If they had missionary work in mind, then no doubt it was not much more than a means to dupe simple-minded natives. But truth went on its own way, using them as a vehicle. Meanwhile, the Roman Church, faced with the growth of Protestantism, sought to open new ground by sending missionaries to India, China, Annam and Japan. God only knows if these missionaries did their work out of a true evangelistic spirit or out of competition.

Truth, like seeds scattered by the sower, did its Iife-giving function. Little did it matter whether the hand was dirty or clean. The Christian truth fell on the oriental conscience, a field well prepared with thousands of years of high morality. These missionaries were of the Society of Jesus, or Jesuits. One of its founders, Francis Xavier, arriving in India in 1542, went to Japan in 1549, and passed away in 1552 while engaged in missionary work in southern China. More Jesuits followed to carry on the work.

These were the circumstances immediately before Christianity reached Korea. Shut off from the outside world, Korea continued her faltering way downhill. When Columbus discovered the new continent, the Koreans were drunk, living in a society that was festering with utter corruption, under Songjong. When Protestantism swept through Germany, the Koreans were locked in partisan feuding. While merchant ships of Spain, Portugal, Holland and other western countries were busy plying the Pacific, while the British and the Russians were rattling their sabers in India and Siberia, Korea had no time to rest, what with the Japanese invasion, the Ching aggression, the Juchen raids, the Yi Kwal rebellion.

When others were engrossed in modern scientific research and were excited over new discoveries and inventions that came out of them, the Koreans were carried away with their partisan squabbling, indifferent to what was happening at home as well as beyond the borders.

During the Japanese invasion, Gregorio de Cespedes, a Catholic missionary accompanying Konishi Yukinagas army, attempted to seek converts but was unable to find the opportunity. Some Koreans who had been taken as prisoners to Kyushu in Japan and had embraced Catholicism, also tried evangelistic activity in Korea, but nothing came of it.

In the years of King Injo's rule an envoy to Ming China, Chong Tuwon, brought back a musket, a clock, a telescope and books on astronomy which he had obtained from a Catholic missionary in Peking. Chong must have heard about the Catholic faith but apparently had not taken much interest in it. He only introduced the art of calendar making. In the reign of Hyojong, Hamel and some thirty other Dutchmen drifted ashore on the island of Cheju, or Quelpart. They were detained for over a decade. They were maltreated and displayed for the amusement of curious idlers. But their presence did not provide an occasion for Koreans to reflect on philosophy and religion.

over a long period of time there had been proddings from the outside yet without opening up Korean minds. In neighboring Japan and China, Christianity arrived with goods, or with muskets, and there were forced entries of the prevailing trends of the outside world. All this bypassed Korea. ' Accident? Fate? The meaning is that such passive acceptance of faith would not do. As if awaiting a voluntary search, the new forces of the outside only lapped at the gateway, but never surged into the land. But now Korea alone could not be long left out of the world-wide chorus of humanity in world history, the more so when Korea was wanting a new religion, as she came awake after decades of tumult and turmoil. Finally, the day came when Korea asked an apostle to come from across the Yalu as when, earlier, the Macedonians requested Paul to come over from Asia Minor to teach them the truth.

Knowledge of Roman Catholicism began to filter in during the period from the reign of Sukchong to that of Yongjo. This was through the emissary sent yearly at winter solstice, and the new religion was welcomed, not so much as religion as a learning, or lore, with refreshing novelty, known as Ch'eonju-gyo (doctrine of God) or sohak (Western Learning). The first converts were among the southern faction (Korean: namin), who were out of favor, rejected under pressure from the ruling western faction (soin). Discontented and in revulsion from the way things were, they turned to the Silhak school, and in their eyes the high moral standards of the new teaching, must have had a fresh appeal.

This is a point deserving particular attention in considering Koreds intellectual history. When Confucianism arrived in Korea, it can be assumed from the circumstances, although lacking specific documentation, that it was received by the upper levels of society. Buddhism also entered riding on political powers, openly and in force, although it may have found its way in trickles into the class of commoners. So both religions in Korea started at the top and in time worked their way downward. They were the religion of the powers that be, state religions. Christianity, in contrast, was brought in by people who were out of power. Christianity appeared to meet a popular demand. As such it maintained an adversary relationship with the rulers and the powerful. Because of this unique position Christianity was to exert great moral influence.

Religion often captures the very one who tries to take advantage of it. Members of the southern faction, having taken up the novel doctrine for themselves, wanted to flaunt their broad learning, but in turn became its slaves. In the winter of 1783, the seventh year of Cheongjo, Yi Seung-hun, then twenty-seven, accompanied the winter solstice envoy to Peking, and while there accepted the Catholic faith and was baptized. After his return to Korea he won over his relations by marriage and then other members of the southern faction. A small circle of adherents came into being. This is the first move in Korea toward Christianity.

"In every age in every country throughout the history of evangelism, it has been consistent that first the missionary comes and the teaching spreads. But how astounding and mysterious is God's providence! What is remarkable about the Korean church is that it was started without any missionary taking a hand in spreading the teaching." Thus writes Kusuda Onosaburou in his A Short History of Korean Catholicism (Chousen tenshukyou shoushi). This fact bears great significance in the light of what we have seen of Koreds history.

When waves of western civilization were sweeping over southern China and Taiwan, Ryukyu and Satsuma in Japan, as well as the banks of the Heilungchiang in Manchuria, why is it that Korea, lying in the middle of this part of the world, was left untouched, with no missionaries visiting the country? Why is it that it seemed as if Christianity was waiting until Korea stretched out her hand?

Certain feudal lords (daimyo) in Kyushu toward the end of the warring period of Japan welcomed Catholicism for the advantage of securing weapons and trade interests. China too saw the benefits of astronomy, geometry, algebra and the technology of artillery. Not so Korea; there it all began with the studying of the truth that would save the world and humanity. This should not be lost sight of if one is to understand not just church history but indeed history as a whole. This was not because Koreans were particularly disposed to philosophy or religion, nor because Korean thought was closer to Christianity. It was because Koreans were aware that their plight was such that they had to clutch even at a straw. It may be more truthful to say that Providence so intended.

Once its core was formed, the new religion grew apace, and the vigor of faith it kindled could not fail to stir up a society stagnating like a cesspool. As long as Catholicism remained a scholarship of sorts at the desk of a student, it did not release any appreciable force, and the government saw no need to interfere. As it began to show its true colors as a faith in deed as well as in words, many came to develop a dislike for the strange teaching. What provoked popular resentment was the fact that its followers discontinued the ceremony of memorial services and even discarded their ancestral tablets. This was a departure from the central norm of traditional mores. Outcries were heard denouncing Catholicism as heresy.

In the tenth year of Cheongjo, a mere three years from the conversion of Yi Sung-hun in Peking, the court issued a ban on Catholicism and the import of relevant literature from China. The first to be caught violating the ban and to receive the crown of glory as martyrs were two persons from Chinsan in Cheolla-do - Yun Chi-ch'ung and Kwon Sang-nyol. Both were aristocrats and had served in government. They were charged with discontinuation of ancestral memorial services. Officials urged them to renounce their heresy with the promise of pardon, on condition that they bow before the tablets, but they spurned the offer and were beheaded.

After that, Korean converts, feeling the need for leadership and guidance, sent a request to the Catholic church in Peking that a missionary be sent. A Chinese priest Chou Wen-mo (Chinese: Chu-Mun-mo) arrived. His selection was based on the idea that he would be less likely to be detected, on account of the similarities in his features to Koreans, under the suppression then in progress in Korea. An orphan, Chou was instructed from his youth in Catholicism and was ordained a priest. He arrived in Korea in the winter of 1794, a young man of twenty-four, disguised as an attendant in a courier post. He continued working in secret for seven years in Seoul until he was found out and died a glorious martyr's death.

At this time King Cheongjo, consistent with the policy of doing away with factionalism, appointed as minister CHae Che-gong of the southern faction (specifically, a clique within it) which was on friendly terms with Catholics, and as long as the two lived there was no serious suppression. With the passing in 1799-1800 of both king and minister, the western faction regained positions of power and an all-out persecution was unleashed against the Catholics in an effort to eliminate the southern faction. In 1801, the first year of King Sunjo, some three hundred converts were put to death. The celebrated scholar Chepng Yag-yong was exiled. The Chinese priest Chou escaped danger by fleeing to the Yalu, where he had a moment of inspiration and returned. He gave himself up and was beheaded at Noryangjin.

Chou Wen-mo, it is said, predicted that the Korean church would be without a shepherd for three decades. In fact no other missionaries arrived despite all serious attempts on the part of those who barely survived the persecution. They began to drift apart. Then in 1836, a French priest, Pierre-Philbert Maubant smuggled himself into Uiju. He was followed by Jacques Honore Chastan and Laurent Joseph Marie Imbert. The church regained strength until 1839, the fifth year of Honjong, when suddenly a new wave of persecution was set in motion. The three French priests were arrested, tortured and executed. Korean adherents, too, died by the score.

The Korean church was driven underground for a time. Then through the efforts of the first Korean priest, Kim Tae-gon, more missionaries came in 1845. As the suppression policy relaxed under Ch`eolchong, there were now twelve foreign missionaries, with the membership of the church counting tens of thousands. In the third year of KDjong, Taewon-gun, the regent, embarked on another full scale campaign against the Catholics which resulted in a massacre of thousands of believers, including nine missionaries. The foreign powers protested, and followed up by use of force, whereupon Taewon-gun declared a policy of isolation and closed off all traffic with foreign countries. Later when he was relieved of the regency and communications with the outside world were resumed, the persecution gradually eased.

The Protestant faith reached Korea in the wake of Catholicism. In 1832 a German missionary, Karl F. A. Guzlaff, came ashore in Ch'ungch'ong-do but his attempt at converting Koreans brought no results. In 1866, an Englishman, Robert Jermain Thomas, known by his Korean name CHoe Nan-heon, arrived aboard a US. ship but was killed in P'yongyang. Another Englishman, John Ross, stationing himself in Manchuria, translated the Bible into Korean and printed copies were sent to Korea. It was after the conclusion of the 1882 Korean-American treaty of trade and amity that Protestantism began gaining wide acceptance among Koreans.

This is the story, in a nutshell, of how Christianity was introduced into Korea. During the century following Yi Seung-hun's pledge in Peking that he would devote himself to the spread of Jesus' teaching, the Korean church experienced untold misery and persecution as it grew. Those thirsting after truth would wander around in China or in Manchuria to seek out a leader to guide them, unmindful of the bitterness of north winds, undaunted by the rigors of the icebound rivers on the border. To seek a path to Korea, evangelists would brave an angry Yellow Sea in a small boat which pitched and rolled as it was tossed by surging billows of seawater. To escape detection they would pose as mourners with a large wicker hat that customarily covered the whole face. They would go through sewers, hide in caves, go without food in the hills. How brave missionaries marched to the place of execution singing hymns, how noble martyrs held to their belief under censure and suppression, calmly yielded to authority come to arrest them and gladly submitted to the sword, how the faith spread the wider as the more fell victim-all these make inspiring reading. This is the resplendent history of the early church in Korea.

Christianity was thus able to bring a breath of fresh air into a society that was fast decaying. Christians of today who are shrewd and educated, ready to compromise, good at expediency, should realize what their fellow-believers before them were like. They were simple and honest, they did not fear death, they were direct and singleminded. Particularly today this should be realized when the times prompt premonitions that a true crisis is approaching.

It was no accident that Christianity came into Korea at this time. On the contrary, it arrived with a mission. True to pattern, it was to prepare for the modern period of history which was to evolve.

But Christianity failed. The emergent new life movement was no longer to serve any purpose. If the new stirrings were blighted, if the eyes that seemed to be clearing up dimmed again, if the steps in the right direction strayed, how maddening and what tragedy! Unfortunately, such was the punishment meted out that set Korea writhing in frustration.

Christianity arrived to save Korea from three evils: class distinctions, demeaning herself as a slave of China, and determinist superstitions. These are rotten dregs settled down at the bottom of the whirlpool of history, a history that has gone from bad to worse. The traditional religions, indigenous or foreign, all failed in their role of spiritual leadership of the nation. The partisan feuding arising out of warped psychology was a corollary. There was no hope for a new direction in history as long as the deep-seated malady persisted. To provide a remedy Christianity came as a religion of high morality enjoining strict obedience, a religion which teaches that the one deserving of worship is the one God who is spirit, that all people are brothers and sisters, that love is above and over all else. Conventional religions were completely denatured and without vitality to lead the soul, and worse still, had turned into the source of all evils. As the nobles abused religion to maintain their own status, Christianity had to face up to all three degenerate established religions. But it failed.

Christianity had some limited success in correcting abuses, and sustained severe persecution in so doing, but it failed to win a complete victory. The Catholic church failed to achieve what was essential at that time for Korea to be kept alive, a thoroughgoing religious reform or spiritual revolution. Perhaps this was because Catholicism had spent itself by the time it issued forth from Europe.

This is not to say that the original Christianity was like that, nor was the indigenous Korean religion, or Confucianism or Buddhism, for that matter. After all, religion is to save humankind, not to cooperate in bearing down on it to exploit it. But when a religion establishes itself as an institution, it is entwined with the high and mighty and its role is reaction against the progress of history.

It is then that reformation becomes necessary. If Catholicism had in fact been inspired with the spirit of Christ, it certainly would not have been reluctant to undertake reform. When Catholicism reached Korea to spread the truth it still carried the dregs it had yet to discard. As long as the Catholic church had within itself a hierarchy, a readiness to defer to power, and elements of superstition, how could it reform those outside of it? Herein, one would say, was the basic reason for its failure in Korea.

With dregs yet to be cleared away, Catholicism still was not in the stage of corruption besetting official Confucianism or Buddhism. On the part of Korea, too, if her desire to find a way to life had been real and strong, she could have accepted a true, living religion even if the vessel in which it was carried had a few cracks and showed overall wear and tear. But Korea failed. Great was the number of martyrs, yet Christianity remained on the plane of personal belief and devotion and never struck out for reform in society as a whole. This was truly a pity.

In the interest of perpetuating their dominant position in society, the nobles inspired in the people the idea of class distinctions. The four respectable classes of scholar, farmer, craftsman and merchant were set up, with lower classes in seven or eight grades below them. A sense of privilege was early instilled in a youth beginning his studies in the Chinese classics, while obedience to authority was inculcated in commoners as a law handed down from heaven. The Catholic church should have faced up to this situation and put up a fierce battle if it was to save Korea. But in the church as well the nobles remained noble and the commoners remained commoners.

An attitude of deference to China, the great country, was fostered among the populace as a means of keeping it in line. Offering the populace as a sacrifice before China, the privileged class secured their position to exercise full freedom to exploit the people. One reason agriculture did not develop as it might have was this two-fold exploitation: the privileged class had to do its duty as slave to China and to secure for itself a life of opulence.

Any idea of revolution had to be crushed to preserve the life of bondage and for that, moral slavery toward China was absolutely necessary. If it had really been interested in saving Korea, the Catholic church should have started with eliminating this subservience. But the church did not seem to wish to do so. The very name for Catholicism, Ch'eonju-gyo means the teaching of the Lord of heaven, just one remove from the designation of the Chinese emperor ch'eon-ja (son of heaven). This speaks of the lack of interest in the Catholic church to be freed of Chinese thought. The Catholic church in Korea was conservative.

Another thing the nobility had achieved was suppression of Buddhism and belittling of traditional Korean thought. As we recall how King Sejong burned his fingers by building a Buddhist temple, we realize what the ruling class had in mind at that time. Sejong was a thoughtful king, and if he embraced Buddhism he could not have done so as a gesture to superstition. Surely he did so out of mature and sincere consideration, for it was he who had established, out of a deep concern for the future of the country, the Chiphyeon-jeon. In this light, the stiff resistance by the literati to Buddhism cannot be taken to have been inspired by any love of truth or love of country. No, it must have been their power, their privileged status that the literati were out to save.

Confucianism had high moral standards, but somehow it fell short of satisfying human need for religion. Little wonder that Taoism prevailed in the land of Confucianism, where Buddhism, too, prospered since it arrived from abroad. In short, religious faith is essential in running a country. But Yi Korea relied only on Confucianism and rejected Buddhism. King Sejo promoted Buddhism, it is said, but this was from his desperate wish to somehow exonerate himself from the enormous blood-letting he had caused, not from any design for the advance of a national spirit. After him, Buddhism consistently suffered mistreatment to the extent that Buddhist monks were reduced to the lowest levels of society. That was a severe blow for Buddhism but some of the blame should rest with Buddhism itself. Growth of religion is not stunted by persecution. On the contrary, a true religion grows under persecution. One should recall how Christianity had fought out of the catacombs before it won over the Roman empire. Buddhism certainly cannot plead repression by Yi Korea for its sad state if it had still been living and vigorous. The country was in error neglecting matters of religion. What did the suppression of Buddhist and traditional religions yield? Flourishing superstition.

No society has ever been without superstition. Yet nowhere else is it so strong as in our country. This is so in part because the populace was not allowed to give its spirit a chance of real growth. The populace was like a sickly plant withering in the shade. Mere survival under the oppressor was the preoccupation of everyone, deprived of freedom to study or to believe. Lacking the ability or the drive to launch revolution, all the populace did was vaguely hope for better times. The result was nothing but mere superstition. In the meantime, the government, which did not allow a true religion, encouraged and made use of superstitions. That is how the populace found itself without moral vigor.

If the Catholics had had vision they would have gone after superstition far more vigorously than they did. Alas, in the zeal with which they banned ancestor worship as a superstition, they failed to strike out at the more important thing, worship of evil spirits, entangled with fatalism and magic. Ancestor worship had its share of abuse but it was a superficial judgment, on the part of the western theologian unfamiliar with the way of the East, to condemn it. Ancestor worship had roots of morality that had to be reckoned with. Tampering with these moral roots made it more difficult to reach the soul of the populace. By neglecting popular education the Catholic church bypassed the heart of the matter.

Korea's needs were great at the time, lagging as she did in such fields as science, but the Catholics missed the chance to launch a campaign for far-reaching renovation. The Catholic failure was due primarily to their indifference to popular education. The new life movement faded out, for no regenerative endeavor can gain momentum without being rooted in faith. In this manner, all the efforts under the two kings, Yongjo and Cheongjo, came to nothing as factionalism went on as ever. Lost in the jockeyings for position and power, the nobles were exhausted. With a morally paralyzed populace, any thought of revolution was out of the question. What little resistance there was among the populace, unlettered and without organization, was foredoomed. Undiminished were the factional strife with selling of offices in the capital and exploitation of the populace in the provinces.

Of great significance at this juncture was a revolution mounted by Hong Kyeong-nae. Nothing much is known of the scale of his planning, the height of his spirit or the purity of his motives. Nor do we know whether he was a true revolutionary or just a man of ambition. One thing is certain: he spoke for a downtrodden people, he represented a squirming of protest by a living thing whose life had dwindled over the centuries, an outburst of a soul mistreated. He came from P'yongan-do province, the old site of Koguryeo, in the Yonggang district. Yonggang faces the Yellow Sea. He must have grown up amid the legend of Tan'gun and the stories of Commander Ulchi Mun-deok. The four centuries of resistance to the Chinese in the period of the Four Han Counties was the work of his ancestors. The fall of Koguryeo must have rankled in his heart. It was no accident that he should have been born there to lead his followers into uprising under the banner of Marshal of the Northwest, with the goal of changing the course of history. Can we not say that heaven called him to the task?

When Hong Kyeong-nae. was studying in a one-room village school, his master one day called on him to compose a verse on the theme of Ching Ko (Korean: Hyong Ka), the unsuccessful assassin of Shih Huant-ti of CHin, the first emperor-tyrant of Chinese history. On instructions from Tan, the crown prince of the state of Yen (Yeon) Ching was on his way, a dagger hidden on his person. As the two parted by the river of I, Ching Ko recited a poem:

 Desolate is the wind
Over the cold water.
As a man is about to leave
He holds no hope for return.

 The young Hong Kyeong-nae. wrote:

An autumn wind is blowing across the river
And a man, his fist clenched,
Will go after the head of the emperor
To Hsienyang in broad daylight.

As the master droned on, Hong interrupted him: "That's no way to read my poem.' Hong read it himself with a different emphasis, and hit the floor hard with his fist. The effect, translated, would be:

A man will hit the emperor
Hard on the head with clenched fist

His master, visibly shaken, said, "I can't teach you any more."

In the eyes of a man thinking of smashing the skull of an emperor, the king of Yi Korea huddled under Mt. Pugak with his entourage of nobles must have seemed like so many ants licking the sweet liquid from the aphids. He had courage and he seemed to have been talented as well. He worked out an elaborate plot at Tabok-tong, near Kosan, but it did not succeed. The frustrated people of P'yongan-do talk of "revamping Taboktong." He could not make it across the river of Ch'ongch'on, and met his sad end near Chongju.

Why the failure? Certainly he made mistakes. His followers, it is said, were poorly organized. He had to rush into action, so goes conjecture, unprepared ahead of schedule because the secret was out. The local commander of Anju had secret designs to fall in with Hong but he countered Hong at the beginning while awaiting further developments. Hong could have succeeded had he dared to cross the Ch'eongcheon river. As it was, the local commander had no choice but to crush him.

He failed to rally the people, who were not prepared spiritually. He is said to have traveled the length and breadth of the land, visiting village schools as well as Buddhist temples to enlist comrades in his cause. Legend points to his being more a man of stratagem and craft than of spirit and principle. That is not enough to rally the people. Under these circumstances, we have no choice but to interpret the turn of events in terms of meaning, that is, that it came from God's nature of demanding the absolute.

Two events-the arrival of Protestantism and the creation of the religion of Tonghak (Eastern Learning) - claim our particular attention at this point. The Protestants came as if to replace the Catholics in order to carry out what they had failed to achieve.

Another form of Christianity as it was, Protestantism is totally different in spirit from Catholicism. Since it originally rebelled against the Catholic church because of its love of freedom, Protestantism places freedom before tradition, understanding of doctrine ahead of ritual. This is plebeian if that is patrician. Parliamentarianism is an outgrowth of Protestant thought, so too are democracy and capitalism. The Protestants of the United States who sent out missionaries to Korea at that time were inspired by the thought of democracy, one of the guiding principles under which their country was founded.

When Protestantism came to Korea a number of new movements were launched. These movements advocated putting an end to isolationism and opening of the country as an independent state, the use of the native alphabet, entirely new approaches to education, and starting anew as a civilized nation on the basis of liquidating class-oriented customs and entrenched superstitions. These movements were directly influenced by Protestantism, and none of these had been seen during the century of Catholicism. It should be noted that while Catholicism had for its main setting the areas south of Seoul, the Protestants prospered most in the northwestern part of the peninsula and had more followers among the lower classes of society. Also noteworthy is the fact that this sect spread very rapidly for a time, and produced from its ranks more dedicated reform-minded patriots.

Our new style of education began with schools such as Paehwa, Yihwa. (Ewha), Thesong, Osan and others, in the capital as well as in the provinces. Newspapers and magazines began publication, hospitals opened. All this was directly or indirectly under Protestant influence. This new climate, together with prevailing moods of reform, was such as had not been seen in centuries: the "new learning" was taught in every village. Close-cropped hair replaced the top knots of long hair for men. Colored fabrics became fashionable in preference to white for traditional clothing. People did calisthenics to the tune of a rousing march played with drum and horn. Stirring songs filled the air.

A student's cap opened almost any door to the youth. A track-and-field meet jointly sponsored by several schools was an occasion for such excitement and elation as fairly shook the ground. Emotional public debates held in town and country were full of slogans and lamentations. Adult education to arouse and enlighten the public was all the craze. "Modernizing" was the word on everybody's lips. The welfare of the twenty million Koreans was in every heart. It seemed as if spring ha come back to the tree that had been stripped bare by exploiters under the tyranny of the nobles.

Inspired by Protestantism and ideas of democracy that came with it and a spirit of adventure and progress reflecting an emergent capitalism of the time, Korean society was afire with the idea of reform and renewal It was at this time that there appeared a contending force in the form o Tonghak. As its name "eastern learning" seems to suggest, Tonghak opposed itself to "western learning;" which is the Catholic faith. Although it had no new or unique thought or doctrine to offer, Tonghak was significant in being a movement of self-awakening under the stimulus of ideas impinging on Korea from the outside world. This was more of a revolutionary movement than a pure religion, as can be seen from its slogan "Save the people by doing away with tyranny." The Tonghak held on to too many superstitions to be rated forward-looking, and was unable to effect any wide popular awakening.

Another spiritual movement which bears comparison with Tonghak is Taejong-gyo, or the worship of Tan'gun. The first father who descended from heaven had been nearly forgotten. What remained of his religion doubtless must have come down through the thought of Buddhists and Confucians of Koguryeo and later the Hwarang of Silla, both retaining some of its aspects, until it was displaced by religions from ChinaConfucianism, Taoism and Buddhism. As a result, the ancient belief in "one greatness, brightness and purity" had never developed into a system of philosophy, morality or religion.

Myoch'eong's attempt to establish a state Taewi-guk, in opposition to the existing Kory6 state, was a last desperate act for its revival, only to be drowned out by Confucianism. There followed no further try. Its last vestiges in Yi Korea were to be found in folk cults devoted to gods indwelling the home, a mountain pass, small shrines lurking in a corner in some Buddhist temple, or ancient trees towering on the edge of a village. In fact, few are even aware that these practices trace back to their ancestral religion. In the influx of western ideas of nationalism, the worship of Taegun was brought back to memory, probably triggered by the model of Christianity.

Na Ch'eo1 built a set of tenets and rituals on the basis of what he claims to have discovered to be fragments of Taegun's teaching as transmitted through Koguryeo and Pohai. He himself committed suicide on Mt. Kuwol, hallowed by Tan'gun's descent. He may have taken a hint from Jesus' death on the cross. Apart from how much Taejong-gyo shares with the religion of antiquity, it forms at least another chapter in the story of national reawakening.

To wake up was one demand of history at this juncture-to awake as a nation, to awake to the world and to the times. With the telegraph and the telephone, world history suddenly speeded up. Western faces appeared on the Korean scene, a great variety of new faces with their own languages and scripts, from Germany, France, Russia and Holland. Faced with all the new machines and gadgetry, such as guns, six-shooters, clocks, telescopes, printing presses, people realized that one cannot go on with old ideas in the traditional way of government. Nations are in a race, each trying to outdo the other in the fierce struggle to survive and become richer and more powerful.

Korea was in an emergency. Even the Japanese, the despised island people, were now marching along as a new modern state under an emperor, in the ranks of the powers of the world. It insisted that we open up. All this was unheard of, nor could one find any reference to something of this sort either in the Confucian classics or in the Buddhist tripitaka.

The way things have developed, there is no more boasting of being a Kim or a Yi, nor can a noble very well look down on a commoner. Even China, the greatest country there is, has had to cede land and pay reparations to the Westerners. Korea had to wake up to survive.

We should have awakened to the fact that we were a nation with common language, morals and customs. We should have gotten together in giving up old ideas in order to accept new knowledge and technology and to go on to join the other nations in the march of progress. A complete change of heart was urgent, a total reform. This new religion, Protestantism, inspired people with its sense of freedom and justice. Its devotion and a readiness for service in a spirit of self-sacrifice might have set Korean hearts aflame with revolution. But it too failed for the lack of a middle class.

It is from the middle classes that a society draws its strength for progress. Relieved of the drudgery demanded of the lower classes and not as corrupt as the upper privileged class, the middle classes are in a position to think rationally and to get things accomplished financially. The middle classes are capable of pulling the lower classes up and of curbing the ruling classes. By mediating between the ruling class and the ruled, the middle classes can make society as a whole go forward. In a society where government works reasonably well, the middle classes come into their own. Under tyranny, the middle classes disappear and the populace is thrown in distress, the country is ruined.

Another country of the East with an old-fashioned society, Japan, managed to revolutionize itself by welcoming the new civilization. Korea, on the other hand, failed in revolution and came to grief, deprived of sovereignty. While Japan had fostered a solid middle class in the three centuries under the Tokugawa shogunate, Korea, devastated by the Japanese and then the Manchu invasions, continued its downhill slide toward total collapse. This was due to continued exploitation of the populace by the ruling class which never took the trouble to foster and nurture the people. The populace was made too weak even to resist. When the lower classes collapse, the upper class too g them. What makes Korean nobles particularly hateful is their obtuseness so that they did not see the obvious.

Seen from the perspective of meaning we have to conclude that God was angry with Korea. Fortune or chance does seem to be at work in history. Japan was fortunate to be forced to open communication with the West by Commodore Perry. There might have been like opportunities for Korea but somehow nothing happened to wake up the dreaming nation. Although Hamel's Dutch crew stayed in Korea for decades, Koreans failed to learn from them anything about the West. In 1866, a French fleet with hostile intentions appeared but it withdrew for reasons of its own. The Korean government assumed that we were strong enough to beat the French off and pursued its isolation policy even more intently. Later when the U.S.S. Sherman came up the Taedong River, it had to retreat be ore unexpectedly high waters, and again the occasion did not turn out to be one to demonstrate the West's strength before the Koreans. One cannot help suspect that someone was at work to prevent Korea from waking up. God would not thus treat Korea indefinitely for no reason. If He was angry it was our fault. God was angry in order to have us undo our mistakes. The moral simply is that you cannot run a country properly by defying the laws of history.

The family quarrels in the royal Yi household of Chonju tell vividly the story of the state of the country at the time. Why the Taewon-gun and Queen Min, of all people? They were cast in roles to play out the scenario of Koreds downfall. The enduring factional feuding, interspersed with power plays within the royal court by the queen's relatives now draws to its denouement.

A boy of twelve flying his kite in the streets of Seoul was put on the throne. Was it not with the idea of holding power and living the good life? Little did they dream that their fate would soon snap just like the thread in the hand of the flyer of the kite. But that was later. The boys father, who became regent, had made his rounds of the guest rooms of the nobles for free drinks, but had not expected to assume such an exalted post. Farthest also from his imagination was that the bride he had chosen for his son, the king, presumably the least source of trouble or abuse, turned out to be his arch rival for power in the palace and in the country, until everything came apart.

Evidently an invisible hand was moving pawns, as the game would soon become plain to all, ranging the conservatives against the progressives, the pro-Japanese against the pro-Chinese, and so on down the line. The country was just like an aging whore who refuses to work out her destiny as an honest person will, but goes the easy way of hitching up with one customer today and another tomorrow until finally she is rejected by all.

There indeed were attempts at reform by persons who had awakened ahead of others-the 1884 palace coup and the 1894 reform-but all to no avail. As a result of the feuding, Taewon-gun was abducted to China, Queen Min was assassinated by Japanese soldiers, the king was deposed, and his son was put in his place-which did not last, for soon afterwards the whole country was swallowed up by Japan in the annexation of August 28, 1910.

That was the limit to which the national humiliation reached. Yi Korea did not have any martyrs. It is true that we had Yi Chun, the secret envoy to plead Korea's case before the Hague conference without success, which led to his suicide, and Min Yong-hwan, who protested the annexation with his life, but these two were far from enough to cover over the greatest shame that ever befell Korea. When Yi Korea fell the name of the country itself was eliminated, for Korea now was just a colony of someone else, a development quite unheard of in all five millennia. God had decided that he would no more be fooled by the Koreans, ever.

Why at the hands of Japan, of all countries? We Koreans had educated that country, taught its people. An island off in the middle of the Eastern Sea, it is peopled in part by the primitive Ainus, in part by tribes from the south seas, but those who began developing a higher level of culture in the land, the revered tribe reputed to have descended from heaven, most probably must have been a wave of Koreans who traveled down the Korean peninsula and then through Kyushu. Myths and stone age relics alike point to this. More specifically, it was the Koreans who first instructed the Japanese in Chinese characters, who brought Confucianism and Buddhism to them. Without communications with the Asian mainland their culture could not have developed. Without travels to and from Korea, Japan's economy could not have prospered.

The raids of Japanese pirate-marauders who repeatedly molested Korean shores were part of the picture. The elaborate hospitality with which the Tokugawa shogunate received envoys from Korea accounts for the high esteem in which the Japanese held Korean culture. So if Korea had had secure sovereignty and a mastery of the coastal seas, Japan would have been fully in Korea's hands. If we had had Manchuria for our backyard and the Japanese archipelago for a breakwater, history certainly would have been different when western civilization came to the Orient. While busy plying her harlotry for decades, cuddling up now to China, now to Russia, now to Japan, Korea lost her land to her protégé, Japan, who had long since been held in such contempt. God was determined to persevere until Koreans finally woke up and faced up to the situation.

That was why we continued in bondage even after the first world war when many nations regained their freedom through the principle of national self-determination. That was how the March 1 (1919) uprising failed us even though the movement demonstrated a courage and a spirit of unity and peace such as has not been rivaled in the history of the nation. For Korea had more training and trial to go through. By the second world war, it seemed as if her very consciousness as a nation was on the verge of disappearance.

This ends our review of Korea's history of suffering. Looking back, how bleak and wretched it was, all the way from the period of the Three Kingdoms. We plodded, or more truthfully, crept, or one would better say, rolled under a shower of blows and kicks, along a path of tears and blood. The last five centuries of continuing suffering evidently were not enough as all the stirrings for a return to life came to nothing. We close this chapter in the conviction that all these happenings will one day fall into their proper place.