Abstract
This article examines how Roh Moo Hyun, the 16th President of South Korea, was remembered during the several months following his suicide in May 2009. For this purpose, the article focuses on major commemorative texts about Roh published during this period and identifies three recurring themes in the emerging commemorative narrative about him: (1) a defiant dreamer who aspired to build a good society, (2) a nonmainstream politician who challenged the status quo and therefore was destroyed, and (3) a democratic president of common people. Building upon sociological approaches to collective memory, this article situates these themes in the larger sociopolitical context of contemporary Korea and argues that the living memory of Roh helps us understand the role of collective memory in promoting group cohesion, the deeply political nature of memory, and the importance of cultural symbols to the interactive process of constructing the commemorative narrative.
Keywords
On 23 May 2009, Roh Moo Hyun, 1 the 16th President of South Korea (February 2003–February 2008), ended his own life during his regular hiking exercise in the early morning. His suicide amplified his already dramatic life filled with exceptional turns, accomplishments, failures, and controversies. His unexpected death at the age of 62 in the midst of a dubious investigation of bribery scandals linked to his family and brother shocked the entire country and generated commemorative events on a massive scale and a series of commemorative publications in the following months. 2 While the memorial events were the primary channel for the flood of intense feelings expressed by the public, these publications provide us with a window into the making of collective memory in contemporary Korea. As I discussed elsewhere (Moon, 2008, 2009), collective memory of a late president reveals more about those who remember him than about the leader himself. Such memory also inevitably involves the cultural politics of selecting what is worthy of remembering and forgetting about him, by those who produce and circulate commemorative narratives.
To examine how Roh Moo Hyun is remembered in the aftermath of his suicide, this article focuses on the body of posthumous publications about him, which range from prosaic, poetic, and photographic reflections on his life and legacy to his biographies for adult and child readers. 3 Authors of these publications include journalists, writers, scholars, his former staff and colleagues, and ordinary citizens participating in Internet discussions. These commemorators are those who appreciate Roh’s legacy for the democratization of Korean society, with varying degrees of support for him, disappointment in him, and withdrawal of their support and regret for doing so. Recurring themes emerging from the commemorative texts tell us about what these commemorators consider to be worthy of remembering about him: (1) a defiant dreamer who aspired to build a good society, (2) a nonmainstream politician who challenged the status quo and therefore was destroyed, and (3) a “president in my heart”: a democratic president of common people (sŏmin). These commemorative themes are often entangled with intense feelings of indignation and guilt, as well as sorrow. They mourn over him as the lost object of their affection and destroyed symbol of their hope. They are also indignant at conservative groups with vested interests in the status quo who they believe drove him to death, and feel guilty about their inability to support and protect him during his presidency and afterwards. Absent in the commemorative texts are voices of conservative groups who were vociferously critical of Roh and his legacy during and after his presidency, because the immediacy of his suicide and an alleged role that the current government played in it do not allow them to speak negatively of the late president. Yet, their apparently muted voices underlie the production and circulation of the emergent narrative about Roh and reveal what his commemorators forget intentionally or inadvertently. This article will situate the commemorative themes in the larger sociopolitical context of contemporary Korea to highlight the implicit contestation between Roh’s followers and opponents over how to define his reputation. The living memory of Roh expressed in the emergent narrative also allows us to see collective memory as a cultural mechanism that promotes cohesion among his supporters and a process of symbolic interaction.
Collective memory: a cultural mechanism, cultural politics, and process of symbolic interaction or project
Sociological studies of collective memory show at least three related approaches: (1) memory as a cultural mechanism that links the past to the present and thereby promotes social cohesion, solidarity, and order (Olick and Robbins, 1998; Rigney, 2005; Schudson, 1992; Schwartz, 1991, 1996); (2) memory as an arena of cultural politics revealing that different views on the relationship between the past and the present reflect competing narratives of different political projects and agendas (Alexander, 2004; Fine, 1996; Roudometof, 2007); and (3) memory as an interactive process or project in which individuals and groups use recognizable symbols to articulate and rearticulate the relationship between the past and the present (Fine and Beim, 2007; Rigney, 2005). All of these approaches identify an explicit or implicit narrative, connecting the past to the present, as a common feature of collective memory. Yet, these approaches differ in their views on the social or ideological nature of memory and the continuity between the past and the present. It is likely that focus on enduring images and meanings of an object of memory over time emphasizes the continuity between the past and the present, and the role of memory in promoting social cohesion. This focus is also likely to underscore socially situated nature of memory, rather than arbitrary or merely ideological construction of memory that studies focusing on discontinuity between the past and the present are likely to highlight. It is likely that focus on interests and institutional positions of those who produce and circulate memory underscores the political nature of memory that accentuates the ideological use of the past to serve the present. Focus on individual or group agency in the production, circulation, and consumption of memory is likely to illuminate the use of specific cultural symbols in constructing collective memory and its change over time.
However, these approaches do not have to be mutually exclusive. An analysis of collective memory can recognize the social construction of memory, which is shaped by a real event; influences on the memory from competing claims and strategies for representing it; and human agency in selecting and combining cultural symbols to articulate a narrative about a memory object. At the same time, effectiveness of any one of these approaches, or the combined use of them, will depend on a specific case of collective memory and its temporal stage in which memory moves from “living memory” (Rigney, 2005: 14)—which is produced by those who directly experience a “primary event” (Schwartz, 1996: 911) that stirs up public responses for remembrance—to historical memory or “cultural memory” (Rigney, 2005: 14), which is transmitted to those who are removed from the direct experiences of the primary event, or to the next generation. In a case of living memory, we are more likely to see the political nature of collective memory contested among various interpretations of a memory object (which are often charged with intense feelings), rather than its socially situated nature based on its common or dominant meanings that endure over time. Strong influence of living memory on the public, or stability of cultural memory among the public over time, depends on the appeal of a commemorative narrative to prevailing public sensibilities and cultural promotion of such narrative. Prevailing public sensibilities are often “overdetermined” by the confluence of multiple factors in a given society. It is possible that public sensibilities are deeply divided without generating prevailing or common sensibilities on a very controversial object of collective memory. The cultural promotion of living memory or cultural memory inevitably involves competition among different interpretations of a memory object articulated by diverse “carrier groups” in public (Alexander, 2004); these groups choose from a wide range of facts and organize them into narratives about a memory object, and some of them become a “master commemorative narrative” (Alexander, 2004) that structures cultural memory and prevails over alternative narratives. The successful establishment of the new master narrative about a memory object depends on “institutional placement” (Fine, 1996: 1159) of producers of commemorative narratives and their ability to master the control of various institutional mechanisms, from the mass media to state bureaucracy.
Existing studies of collective memories of late presidents or political leaders tend to deal with cases of historical or cultural memories, rather than those of living memories. 4 Hence, most of these studies discuss enduring images and reputations of deceased leaders or transformation of their images and reputations over time. In the case of the collective memory of Roh, we deal with a living memory prompted by immediate exposure to his suicide as a primary event. Due to its immediacy and unusualness, this living memory vividly conveys the dual function of collective memory in general to reflect the current sociopolitical situation in Korean society and guide it with a vision of a desirable society. 5 In particular, this case can serve to be a fruitful site for us to discern a collective longing for a desirable society associated with and/or betrayed by the late leader. As discussed below, this collective longing is implied in the emerging commemorative narrative, which represents Roh as a defiant dreamer, challenger of the status quo, and democratic president. These three themes together highlight the role of memory to promote group cohesion, the political nature of memory, and its characteristic as a process of symbolic interaction. However, for analytical clarity, I pair each theme with these characteristics; Roh’s reputation as a dreamer reveals how the commemorative narrative functions as a mechanism to establish his supporters as a social group with a new democratic sensibility who can appreciate a leader like him. The promotion of solidarity among Roh’s supporters as a group is also inevitably connected to the cultural politics of contending with his opponents whose voices are temporarily muted in the aftermath of his suicide. Simultaneously, in the contested process of generating the commemorative narrative about Roh, his supporters recast him as a democratic president of common people through using recognizable anecdotes from his life and symbols of uncle, farmer, and grandfather. Now let us turn to the analysis of the commemorative narrative of Roh.
Commemorative themes
A prominent keyword in the commemorative publications about Roh is “fool” (pabo). Almost half of the books used for this article contain this term explicitly in their titles, and all the rest make explicit references to it in their texts. Initially used by an individual who posted his comment about Roh on the Internet after Roh lost the 2000 National Assembly election, this term was adopted by many other Internet users discussing Roh and Korean politics, and became a term of endearment among his supporters (Chang, 2009: 73–76; Oh, 2009: 222–223). Roh himself also embraced it as amusing praise. He commented that “a political leader manages public goods and he needs to be a fool to do this job well because a fool does not behave shrewdly for his own interests” (Oh, 2009: 225). Ironically used, this nickname captured Roh’s qualities as an honest man of principle who stood up for what he believed and refused to calculate his personal gains by following conventional ways of doing politics in Korean society. His suicide epitomized his “foolishness” to defend the sincerity of his intention and principled behavior. A “citizen reporter” of Oh My News,
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articulated this pervasive sentiment among his commemorators: There are those who killed numerous people, took millions of millions of won (the Korean currency), and lived in the Blue House, and they are still living well. Why on earth did he have to leave? I wish he were a bit more shameless, a fool, Roh Moo Hyun. (Yu et al., 2009: 168; the author’s translation)
The commemorators who produce the emerging commemorative narrative about Roh use his foolishness to redeem his reputation that was seriously tarnished during his presidency by his opponents and disappointed former supporters.
The voice of criticism and ridicule is obscured in the commemorative narrative. There were some obvious reasons for criticism against Roh related to his policy decisions. Against his supporters’ opposition, Roh dispatched 3000 “non-combat” troops to Iraq in June 2004 to bolster the US invasion of Iraq, which was very unpopular in the world, and signed the Free Trade Agreement (FTA) with the United States in April 2007. Although he was represented as an anti-American candidate in the US media, he as president understood the critical significance of the superpower to Korea’s economic and strategic interests, and was compelled to compromise with it. After voters made Roh’s newly created Wuri Party a majority in the National Assembly in April 2004, his party failed to eliminate the National Security Law, which was abused for so long by authoritarian regimes. In July 2005, to his supporters’ bafflement, Roh proposed an alliance with the conservative opposition party (Yu et al., 2009: 185). Combined with aggressive and persistent criticism and ridicule from powerful conservative media, these unpopular policy decisions and mistakes made a large number of people previously impressed by him turn their backs against him. Although he was elected to the presidency with the largest number of votes in Korean history, his approval rating had remained quite low during most of his term. Yet, the intensity and pervasiveness of criticism against him have a certain emotional dimension and do not correspond to objective indicators showing a fairly good or improving performance of his government in the areas of the economy, social welfare, the environment, democratization, and peace with North Korea. 7 Roh’s supporters, who produce the emerging commemorative narrative about him, counteract earlier criticism and disappointments with intense feelings of guilt and regret about being unable to appreciate his value and protect him from escalating conservative attacks by Lee Myung-bak’s administration.
Defiant dreamer who aspired to build a good society
The commemorators of Roh commonly recollect him as a defiant dreamer who refuses to accept discrepancies between normative ideals and the given reality. They convey that he had a lifelong dream of realizing a good society that he called “the world where human beings live” (saramsanŭn sesang). This phrase was the title of the first book he published in 1989 as a neophyte legislator, and it has also been the name of the Internet homepage created in 2008 after he completed his term. The commemorators share the following ideas about the world where human beings live. It is a society where “common sense” (sangsik) and “principles” (wŏnch’ik) work in everyday life, and where people follow rules, and privileges are not accepted. It is also a society with trust that Roh believed was to be the most precious social capital. His common sense was not customary conventions that most people follow habitually or out of necessity but just and rational ideas that ought to be the working principles of a good society. Examples of his common sense cited in the commemorative publications show his rational, progressive, and populist orientation: If people receive education, they should be able to find secure employment. People should be treated fairly and rewarded for their hard work. The haves should share their wealth with the have-nots. Citizens are the master of the president (Chang, 2009: 105–106). His principles are not what we can bend or give up to win, but an essential element of victory; hence, he wrote that the best outcome is victory with principles, and the next is loss with principles, and the worst is loss without principles. He did not consider victory without principles (Oh, 2009: 84). He insisted on principles, no violation of rules, and no privileges because they nurture trust among people whom political opportunism and expediency have destroyed in Korean society (Oh, 2009: 105).
The commemorators cherish Roh for his (foolish) idealism combined with audacious passion to turn normative ideals into common sense. He entered politics with passionate commitment to leaving “a piece of evidence for our children that one can succeed without compromising with injustice” (Yu et al., 2009: 138). He considered politics, which is deeply corrupted and insidious in reality, as a vehicle to reduce the gap between normative ideals and the given reality, and to construct a good society. Foremost, they memorialize him for being a rare leader who gave them hope that they can build a good society.
The commemorators recollect Roh’s pre-presidential life that shows his quality as a dreamer who does not accept a given reality and who follows his ideals. Although he attended a trade high school and found a humble job at a small fishnet manufacturing company after his graduation, he did not settle down with this situation. After quitting this job that did not pay even his meager rent, he aspired to take the bar examination despite his lack of a college education, a requirement for the examination at that time. Through self-education, he finally passed the bar examination and became a judge in a local court. Again he did not settle for this prestigious job and became a tax lawyer. Although he could lead a comfortable life as a well-paid lawyer at last, after experiencing grueling poverty for so long, he again refused to settle for this reality and became a human rights lawyer and political activist when he was 35 years old, already a married man with two children and a wife to support. In December 1988, when “the Fifth Republic hearings” were held at the National Assembly to investigate the brutal injustice committed by Chun Doo Whan’s military regime (1980–1987), Roh distinguished himself from other lawmakers by interrogating powerful military and economic elites with straightforward questions and articulating impassioned arguments. This exceptional performance made him a rising star overnight in the eyes of the public who had never seen a politician like him before. Yet, instead of utilizing this political capital to advance his own political career, he ran for National Assembly elections and a mayoral election in districts where he was likely to lose because of regionalism in Korean politics. By losing, he wanted to prove that politics was not simply about winning an election by dividing people up with regional enmity but about bringing people together to construct a better society. The commemorators admire him for his integrity and “foolish” pursuit of ideals during his life.
Why do the commemorators find Roh’s quality as a defiant dreamer so memorable? There is certainly a universal appeal of a political leader who combines idealism with passion for turning ideals into a reality. At the same time, there is a specific sociopolitical context in contemporary Korea that amplifies such an appeal. There is an intensity of collective longing for a good society different than the given reality among the commemorators who produced the redemptive narrative about Roh after his suicide. This intense longing stems from a gap between the reality the commemorators face and their expectation for improvement based on the rapid economic development and tumultuous democratization that Korean society had been undergoing. Although South Korea is industrialized (and postindustrial) and (procedurally) democratized, a majority of Koreans find qualities of their lives rather unsatisfactory or even deplorable.
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Especially in the aftermath of the Asian Financial Crisis (1997–1998), secure full-time employment has been severely undermined even for college-educated men, and the disparity between the wealthy and the rest has rapidly widened. Competition for decent jobs has become very fierce in this densely populated society. More importantly, such competition dictates that most people violate the formal rules or normative ideals they learn in school because society has a deeply ingrained legacy of authoritarian regimes that disregard rules and principles as mere trappings of modern statehood. In particular, the developmental state under military leaders pursued swift economic growth at all cost and validated a predatory attitude that winning is everything and only the stupid follow rules. Roh himself best captured this pervasive problem when he delivered in December 2001 his formal speech about his decision to run for the 2002 presidential election. He comments with a sense of historical urgency: For 600 years, those who wanted to live with wealth and prestige in Korea had to be sycophantic toward the powerful. If we wanted to secure our meals, we had to pretend that we did not see it even when injustice was committed in front of our eyes and the powerful crushed the weak. Our 600-year history forced us to live subservient lives with our eyes and ears closed to secure our meals and maintain our lives. My mother left me our family precepts: “son, a pointed stone gets a hit with a graver, no use to hit a rock with eggs, and live tactfully as wind blows and waves move.” For righteous and vigorous young sons who went to a prison in the 1980s because of their dissident protests, their mothers gave them the same advices. Our history forced us to teach this cowardly precepts. We need to clean up this history. We need to make once a history of facing the powerful and obtaining power fairly from them. Only then can our young people talk about justice with confidence and make a new history of confronting injustice. (Oh, 2009: 107, 109; author’s translation)
Roh’s “foolish” insistence on principled behavior and making normative ideals common sense in practice lasted throughout his political career for two decades. This deeply moved many Koreans, especially powerless common people and a younger generation with better education and higher expectations for their own society. He became a compelling politician to these Koreans by articulating a universal human problem in the language that Koreans can relate to. At a philosophical level, Roh faced his urge to grapple with an existential problem of human life that theodicy has dealt with in religion: why do good people suffer in this world? To use his own words, “Why are those worthy of our respect in our modern and contemporary history nothing but losers?” and “Why are those who pursued just ideas defeated in history?” He could not possibly accept this “paradoxical imperative” (Roh, 2001: 5–6). Instead of finding a divine or other-worldly explanation for this existential puzzle, Roh aspired to face this question with a counter example of good people who became successful by pursuing justice and following common sense. As a politician, he intended to be one such example to give ordinary people hope. Precisely because of his headstrong courage not to accept the given reality deplorable to a majority of powerless Koreans, he became a symbol of hope among the powerless majority and the educated people with progressive sensibilities.
In light of memory studies from sociological perspectives, the specific commemorative theme that recast Roh as a defiant dreamer serves to define his supporters figuratively as a progressive tribe that comes together under him as their totemic leader. It reveals how the production and circulation of collective memory promotes group cohesion among his supporters. Such cohesion becomes quite urgent among his commemorators because his supporters lost the 2008 presidential election, and they drifted apart in its aftermath. Roh’s suicide during the escalating investigation of his family, his former staff, and his supporters, by Lee Myung-bak’s government, was an additional blow to his supporters. At the same time, this event offered a crucial chance for the commemorators to reassert his vision of a good society and its relevance for Korean society, and thereby promote group solidarity for his supporters. As discussed below, his commemorators redeem his negative reputation generated by his opponents, by recasting him as a symbol of a threat to the status quo.
A nonmainstream (pijuryu) politician who challenged mainstream elites and therefore was destroyed
The commemorators of Roh remember him as the object of abomination among conservative mainstream elites because of his humble, nonmainstream background as well as his “progressive” orientation. In this way of remembering, his commemorators are implicitly engaged in a battle against his opponents whose own voices are obscured in the commemorative publications. As a commemorator expresses, “He was a non-mainstream guy who refused to follow the navigator devised by the mainstream” and pursued his own way (Yu et al., 2009: 159). His vision of a good society, based on just and rational common sense and fair principles, challenged privileges that the elites had become very accustomed to. His view of politics as a vehicle to build a good society unsettled their frequent use of politics as a tool to advance their own private or group interests. Furthermore, actually being elected to presidency without money and powerful social ties from college and hometown affiliations—which the elites have relied on for so long—he posed a real threat to the mainstream order of things. The commemorators note, however, that the mainstream abomination of Roh is often visceral, rather than rational. During his presidency, Roh rarely implemented antibusiness policy and did not particularly promote workers interests (as indicated in the signing of the FTA), which alienated many of his supporters. Rather, he released those big corporations from the burden of contributing political funds during elections. The national economy was doing reasonably well (Yu et al., 2009: 59). The commemorators note that the elites’ visceral abhorrence of Roh exudes a sense of a master’s superiority toward his low-born servant, which echoes back from hereditary status hierarchy in traditional Korea. A commemorator captures with sarcasm the almost instinctive rejection of Roh, which was pervasive among the elites: The group with vested interests in Korea did not recognize Roh Moo Hyun as president … They could not bear him. He did not follow a dominant party clique that has been central to the established political order and behaved “rudely” like an itinerant market peddler toward Chun Doo Hwan and Chung Joo Young when he was questioning them in hearings [held in 1988] as a fledgling National Assembly member. Posing as a human rights lawyer, he was hanging out with workers. College? He finished a vocational high school. Hometown? He was of course not from Taegu, Kyŏngsang Province [where a majority of political leaders in Korea came from] and not even from Pusan, Kyŏngsang Province; he came from boondocks called Pongha Village near a place called Kimhae. To their eyes, he should have been their “farmhand” (mŏsŭm). (Chung Hui-jun, professor at Dong-a University in Yu et al., 2009: 58, the author’s translation)
The commemorators recollect that Roh’s nonmainstream values and behavior invited equally visceral wrath from three powerful conservative newspapers. Unlike other political leaders before him, Roh did not pay tribute to these powerful media and instead tried to eliminate unfair privileges that the elite media had become so accustomed to. He conducted his first media interview with the only 2-year-old Oh My News and commented that this was suitable for him, a person who was elected through an Internet-based grassroots movement. He also opened the press rooms of the Blue House and other government buildings—which were reserved for the powerful big media—to small- and medium-sized media and Internet media. Hence, throughout his presidency, these conservative newspapers persistently attacked him with criticism, distorted reporting of his policies, and ridiculed him for his unpolished speech, manners, and behavior.
The commemorators remember Roh as a symbol of popular democracy destroyed by the mainstream elites who feared that his precedent would encourage other nonmainstream candidates to challenge the status quo in the future, possibly every 5 years at the time of presidential election. The elites had to prove to the public that a nonmainstream person like him was not really material for president because he did not have the superior education, family background, and resources that they had. They also had to show to the public that what would happen to someone humble and nonmainstream like him if he dared to challenge them. The commemorators note that as soon as Roh completed his term and returned to his hometown to lead a life of an ordinary citizen and farmer, the mainstream government—restored by the election of Lee Myung-bak (February 2008–February 2013)—launched the investigation of him and his family for wrongdoings. 9 The prosecution had been diligently leaking tentative findings and guesswork about these cases to the conservative media, which had been extremely hostile toward Roh. The commemorators are deeply suspicious of the prosecution because it had previously failed to press charges against former presidents and their families who committed far graver crimes, including the mass killing of citizens in Kwangju (Yu et al., 2009: 69). The commemorators recollect unbearable surveillance and intrusion that the powerful media committed against Roh during the spring of 2009. Numerous media reporters and cameramen descended to his hometown to broadcast minor details of his behavior minute by minute to attract viewers. These media became so intrusive to his private life that Roh and his family could not open their windows and walk around in the yard. 10 The commemorators mention that Roh’s house became a prison, and even before he ended his life, his social and personal life already ended by the concerted smear campaign by the prosecution and the mass media (The World Where Humans Live, Roh Moo Hyun Foundation, 2009: 56–59).
The commemorators link the investigation and destructive media publicity to repressive and obstructionist behavior of Lee’s government during Roh’s memorial events that ordinary citizens organized for a week prior to his funeral ceremony on 29 May 2009. By deploying the riot police, the government prevented individual mourners from gathering in the City Hall Plaza to set up a memorial altar. As mourners moved to the Great Han Gate near Tŏk-su Palace to find alternative space, the additional riot police blocked the space. Throughout the first day after Roh’s death, the government deployed over 10,000 riot police in Seoul to monitor the movement of individual mourners and closed major plazas in downtown Seoul where mourners could voluntarily gather (The World Where Humans Live, Roh Moo Hyun Foundation, 2009: 29, 35). As a result, the commemorators recollect, Seoulites set up a shabby “citizens’ memorial altar” in front of the Great Han Gate that they carved out, and they refused to visit the official altars established by the government at the Seoul History Museum and the Seoul Station Plaza. As days went by, the number of makeshift citizens’ memorial altars grew not only across Seoul but also across the entire country. Individual mourners honored their nonofficial and humble altars as places befitting for their nonmainstream president. During the funeral ceremony, which was finally decided to be observed as a national ceremony, the government did not provide necessary assistance despite its agreement to do so, and instead, obstructed the process. To many commemorators’ shock, the government did not even allow Kim Dae Jung, the 15th President who was old and ill, to deliver his memorial speech during Roh’s funeral ceremony. 11
What is the specific sociopolitical context that made Roh’s nonmainstream background, values, and behavior so compelling and therefore memorable? There is certainly a universal appeal of a nonmainstream underdog who challenges the mainstream in any modern society of popular democracy, where people cherish the ideal of open upward mobility through hard work. At the same time, there is the specific Korean context characterized by the restoration of mainstream elites who have defined the governments of Kim Dae Jung and Roh Moo Hyun as “lost ten years.” As Roh himself perceptively recognized, his election was not so much a result of the solid establishment of popular democracy but more a fluke of exceptional factors, including Roh’s uniqueness as a politician who could overcome regionalism because of his lifelong struggle, and the unprecedented participation of progressive citizens in election campaigns (Oh, 2009: 235–240). Social groups and individuals who embrace popular democracy in conservative Korea remain non-mainstream and tenuous. This is well reflected by the subsequent election of Lee Myung-bak to the presidency after Roh. He is not only a former chief executive officer (CEO) of the Hyundai conglomerate who rose rapidly in the corporate hierarchy under Chung Joo Young’s patronage but also an ardent guardian of the mainstream order of things, including developmentalism and anticommunism. As mentioned above, Chung was the powerful businessman whom Roh interrogated in the Fifth Republic hearings back in 1988. The concerted attack on Roh by Lee’s government, and the conservative media contributing to his death, heightens the vulnerability of Roh’s supporters as a nonmainstream social group. The emerging commemorative narrative about Roh mitigates this vulnerability by strengthening cohesion among his supporters vis-à-vis his opponents.
Like the previous theme, this commemorative theme that recasts Roh as a challenger to the status quo redeems his tarnished reputation by explaining why he was harshly criticized and even ridiculed during his presidency. It reveals the muted voices of his opponents who are currently ruling the society and enables us to see the deeply contested nature of this living memory. As an aspect of living memory, this theme also helps us understand that the commemorative narrative that promotes group cohesion among Roh’s supporters is embedded in the cultural politics of the contentious reputation about him in the larger society. As discussed below, collective memory of Roh as a president of common people shows the use of familiar cultural symbols in constructing the commemorative narrative to redeem his reputation.
“President in my heart”: a democratic president of common people (sŏmin)
The commemorators generally recast Roh as the president of common people because of his own humble background and the friendly and respectful attitude and empathy he exhibited toward ordinary people without power and money. The idea of common people in Korean refers to a broad range of people below the middle strata who are not affluent. 12 Roh (2001) himself used the phrase “common people’s president” (sŏmin taet’ongnyŏng) in the book, Lincoln that Roh Moo Hyun met, which he published in the process of making his decision to run for the 2002 presidential election. Roh viewed Abraham Lincoln as his role model of a “successful president” and characterized him as the common people’s president. Building on this self-identification, the commemorators connect certain well-known anecdotes in his life to his empathy with common people.
For example, Roh gave up his comfortable life as a tax lawyer and became a human rights lawyer and activist because he could not overlook the shocking violence inflicted on student activists fighting against the military dictatorship, which he accidentally witnessed in the early 1980s. He helped exploited workers and joined their struggle because he could not remain a bystander in the face of their immense suffering. Roh became a politician because he hoped to make a humane society for the underprivileged. After he completed his presidency, as he mentioned earlier, he returned to his hometown in remote Pongha Village because he deeply felt that he was one of those rural villagers. Following his own principle of no special privileges for elites, Roh rode a Korean Train Express (KTX) just like other ordinary passengers to his hometown and began his life as a rural farmer and grandfather. For 15 months prior to his death, he worked in the field wearing a straw hat, and lived like his unassuming neighbors who bought packs of cigarettes at a local store, and enjoyed his leisure time riding a bicycle with his little granddaughter. At the same time, the commemorators note, Roh was dedicated to developing his village and giving hope to other villages. He introduced organic farming for rice production to revive the depressed rural economy in the era of the FTA (which, ironically he signed during his presidency). He persuaded his neighbors, who were reluctant to try something new, to produce organically cultivated rice, which he grew with them. In addition, he set up his own Internet sites (Saramsanŭn sesang and Democracy 2.0) to communicate with his fellow citizens and nurture a grassroots movement to deepen democracy in Korea. After his retirement to his hometown, Roh’s popularity, which plummeted during his presidency, grew, and a growing number of people started to visit his hometown to see the former president who “threw away his authority” and was leading the life of an ordinary citizen (Kim, 2009: 154). 13 The commemorators tearfully remember that he greeted those visitors like their uncle or grandfather, and he was so delighted to interact with them. 14
The commemorators also convey unprecedented love and sorrow with which the grassroots people showered Roh as their president during his impeachment and his funeral. When he was impeached in the spring of 2004 for the first time in Korean political history,
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tens of thousands of ordinary citizens gathered at downtown Seoul every night to protest against the decision made by the political elite and to show their torrential support for him. Known as “candle light vigils,” the mass rally continued for days, and over a million people joined these vigils during this period. The commemorators recollect that these protesters showed their additional support for Roh in the 2004 National Assembly election in April, giving a landslide victory to his Wuri Party and made this new party the majority in the National Assembly. This popular support for him also influenced the Constitutional Court ruling (in May 2004) in favor of Roh, and restored his presidential authority. Similarly, in the aftermath of his death, people poured out their grief across the country. During a week prior to his funeral, over a million visitors went to his hometown to pay homage to him. Over half a million people came to his funeral observed in downtown Seoul and joined a street ceremony afterward (An et al., 2009: 169–170; The World Where Humans Live, Roh Moo Hyun Foundation, 2009: 263–264). The widely shared feelings of love and sorrow are well captured by the following excerpt from a poem, “I bury you in my heart”: For a lifetime you stood with the weak. You knew about their suffering better than anyone else but you were never weak. In a world run by the powerful and the renowned you jumped down to the rock of distrust that seemed to be unbreakable like an egg hitting on the rock. You were broken into hot tears and flowing down. I believe that those tears will moisten this dry world and tie our hearts together into one. I believe that those tears will be powerful arms to destroy invincible walls. Now I bury you in my heart. Now you are buried in the hearts of all citizens You were a genuine fool in this world without fools. Please sleep in comfort. (Sŏn-t’ae Kim in Chŏng, 2009: 211; author’s translation)
The commemorators connect Roh’s empathy for the common people to his democratic and egalitarian sensibility. Believing that ordinary citizens are the masters of a political leader, he democratized his presidency under the mottos of “humble power” (kyŏmsonhan kwŏllŏk) and “morality of power” (kwŏllŏgŭi todŏksŏng) and tried to eliminate authoritarian conventions deeply ingrained in the workings of the Korean presidency. Even when he was a presidential candidate, the commentators note, he vocally advocated the dissipation of power of the imperial president, and immediately after his election, he announced himself as “people’s president” (Yi, 2009b: 11). Soon after his inauguration, he turned Chŏngnamdae, a presidential villa with an expansive golf resort and a fish farm used by five presidents before him, into a public park. Although his staff opposed to this idea, he proceeded because he believed that such a huge villa was an inordinate privilege that should not have a place in the good society he envisioned (Chang, 2009: 104–105). In addition, the commemorators recollect that following his first National Assembly speech delivered in April 2003,
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throughout his presidency, Roh refused to take advantage of the prosecution, the police, the national intelligence agency, and the national tax administration office, which were important government organs commonly used by former presidents to spy on their opponents and secure their own power (Chang, 2009: 114). The commemorators share with a deep sense of guilt that the public, including Roh’s initial supporters, failed to appreciate his principled behavior of following what he believed to be common sense, while they ridiculed it as naiveté unsuitable for the president. One commemorator conveys the pervasive feeling of guilt and thus regret: He was a fool. This fool made us infinitely shameful. He was the most hopeful person among the failed, the least corrupted among the successful, the least authoritarian among the powerful. I heard someone saying that he would want to born again to be a happy citizen of a country if Roh were born again and became a “fool-president.” I want to join the fool’s march. (An et al., 2009: 150; author’s translation)
What aspect of the specific sociopolitical context made Roh’s empathy for the underprivileged and his democratic sensibility so compelling, and therefore memorable? It is the emergence of social groups who look for an egalitarian leader who can empathize with ordinary people and communicate with them as fellow citizens, rather than a domineering leader. These individuals are products of social change characterized by the expansion of higher education and a rising standard of living in the 1980s and 1990s, and conservative democratization in the 1990s and 2000s. On the one hand, the number of college students multiplied during those decades, and this, in combination with the rising standard of living, led to the emergence of “post-scarcity values” that address qualities of life beyond material abundance. A progressive segment of the educated population began to cherish a democratic leader, but the conservative nature of democratization in Korea has frustrated this expectation. On the other hand, a large number of workers in manufacturing and service industries became aware of their basic rights in the process of the labor organizing that exploded in the late 1980s, and a progressive segment of this working population (both middle class and working class) also began to appreciate a democratic leader. Yet, in the process of conservative democratization, politics has remained an exclusive realm reserved for professional politicians who continued to rely on authoritarian conventions. Most political leaders have remained far from a democratic leader who treats their people equally and respectfully.
For the progressive segments of the Korean population, Roh became an avatar of an egalitarian and avuncular leader. His egalitarian sensibilities make him a leader who is like an accessible friend or a neighbor rather than a commanding general. His words and actions amply testify this. Roh repeatedly mentioned that according to Article One of the Constitution, sovereignty of the Republic of Korea lies in the people and all power stems from them. He aspired to make this formal declaration a lived reality. In his populist view, the people are not passive followers led by a wise or strong leader but active participants in governing; it is not one exceptional and heroic leader but a large number of ordinary people who can discern right values and ideology that can bring about progressive change in society (Chang, 2009: 211). The name of his administration, “participatory government” (ch’amyŏjŏngbu), reflects this emphasis on democratization of power. Hence, Roh intended to establish a rational system of public administration, which does not depend upon an imperial president. He carried out a series of reforms to reduce extensive authority of such a presidency in Korea. He eliminated presidential appointments of high-ranking officers and adopted open competition among applicants. He communicated with people directly via the Internet. His administration made policy reports available in the Blue House homepage for open public access (p. 95). While Roh was aware of popular nostalgia for a “powerful” leader like Park Chung Hee, he believed that Koreans now lived in a different time. Modeling himself after Abraham Lincoln, 17 he believed that powerful leadership would not be forceful leadership but unifying leadership that would stem from people’s trust and democratic procedure, and it would also be horizontal and open leadership (Roh, 2002: 15).
Like the previous two themes, this commemorative theme shows a specific way in which Roh’s supporters define their group identity under Roh and promote cohesion among themselves against his opponents. Like the previous themes, this theme also reveals how his supporters use familiar anecdotes from his life along with the recognizable symbol of uncle, farmer, and grandfather to recast him as a democratic president of common people.
Conclusion
The close analysis of the living memory of Roh produced in the aftermath of his suicide teaches us that group cohesion, the politics of a contentious reputation, and the process of symbolic interaction, all three of which related sociological approaches are often discussed separately, coexist all at once. Compared with existing studies of late presidents that deal with historical memories, this case of living memory allows us to examine how the commemorative narrative about Roh emerges from the primary event of his suicide and what the specific contents of its recurrent themes are. Shaped by the larger sociopolitical context of contemporary Korea, these specific themes generally reflect attempts by Roh’s supporters to redeem his reputation that was seriously tarnished by his opponents and those who were disappointed during his presidency. Critical features of the larger context include the widespread public perception of a low quality of life in Korean society, despite its rapid economic development; the restoration of a conservative government after the rule by Kim Dae Jung and Roh Moo Hyun, former political dissidents with progressive orientations; and the emergence of social groups with democratic sensibilities as a result of social change. Through the production and circulation of the commemorative narrative about Roh, his supporters intend to promote cohesion among themselves as a group vis-à-vis his opponents who regained the control of the government; in doing so, his supporters try to reassert relevance and significance of their democratic values and vision of a good society for Korea. In particular, each commemorative theme amplifies those three features of collective memory. The recasting of Roh as a defiant dreamer serves to promote group cohesion among his supporters by articulating their common vision of a good society that he embodied as their leader. The recasting of Roh as a challenger of the status quo who was destroyed by it reveals the cultural politics of competing over Roh’s reputation between his supporters and his opponents. The recasting of Roh as a democratic president of common people shows the use of anecdotes from his life and such familiar symbols as uncle, farmer, and grandfather in producing the commemorative narrative about him.
The analysis of the living memory of Roh also teaches us that the commemorative narrative combines selective remembering and forgetting to link the past to the present in a meaningful and credible way. All commemorative narratives are inevitably ideological (but not exclusively or merely ideological) in that they are constructed by social groups with certain viewpoints who occupy certain positions in society stratified by various categories. Yet, not all commemorative narratives are equally credible and equally effective. Success of the commemorative narrative about Roh, and its development into enduring cultural or historical memory, will depend upon the institutional placement of his future supporters or “reputational entrepreneurs” (Fine, 1996), who generate and promote a positive reputation about him and his legacy. It will also depend on the public appeal of their commemorative narrative based on the credibility of these narratives and the fit between this narrative and prevailing public sentiments. The current group of Roh’s commemorators includes journalists, writers, scholars, his former staff and colleagues, and ordinary citizens who frequently use Internet discussion sites. 18 While these individuals have worked or acted in cultural and political institutions crucial to the production and dissemination of ideas and information, they are presently marginalized by the public disillusionment with “progressive” governments of Kim Dae Jung and Roh Moo Hyun and the subsequent election of Lee Myung-bak.
If Roh’s supporters regain political power and occupy strategic institutional positions to promote their commemorative narrative, the living memory of Roh will become cultural memory and an enduring legacy of Roh as a good or even great president. In this scenario, the emergent commemorative narrative about Roh may be developed into “the master commemorative narrative” about him. This positive possibility will largely depend on how the public’s view of the current conservative government will evolve, which will be again shaped by the confluence of multiple factors, including the government’s performance and credibility over time, as well as well-organized efforts by Roh’s supporters to reach out to the public and address their interests and concerns. However, it is more likely that the commemorative narrative will remain a glowing version of historical memory about him because the public in Korea has been deeply polarized between a conservative majority and progressive minority. The example of collective memory about Park Chung Hee, I analyzed elsewhere, is a case in point. After three decades have passed since his assassination in 1979, Park remains a cultural icon that incites deeply polarized memories about him. Polarized memories about a president who brought significant change in society is understandable because such change will inevitably motivate those who benefit from it and those who are negatively affected by it. It matters which of these groups is actually a majority in society. In addition, national politics in Korea and elsewhere has almost always been a very emotionally charged process because struggle for state power always involves high stakes and therefore is fiercely competitive. This generates a fertile soil for visceral and demagogic interactions among politicians and their constituencies, rather than cool-headed rational interactions. Therefore, while the availability and dissemination of positive facts about Roh can enhance credibility of the commemorative narrative, it remains to be seen how the public can deal with those facts rationally. Meantime, it also remains to be seen whether this current group of Roh’s supporters will be able to regain their influence over the public opinion and recruit the next generation of competent supporters.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
Earlier versions of this article were presented in a Research Workshop on Asian Memories, convened at University of Georgia, Athens, on 13 and 14 of February 2010 and in a lecture series organized by the Center for East Asian Studies at University of Kansas on 25 February 2010.
Notes
Author biography
Seungsook Moon is Professor of Sociology and Chair of the Department at Vassar College, USA. She is the author of Militarized Modernity and Gendered Citizenship in South Korea (Duke University Press, 2005; reprint 2007) and a coeditor (with Maria Hoehn) of Over There: Living with the U.S. Military Empire from World War Two to the Present (Duke University Press, 2010) to which she also contributed Introduction, Conclusion, and three single-authored chapters.
