When North Korean forces crossed the 38th parallel in 1950, my grandfather, Kang Yeon-gu, was just a teenager on summer break. He was fortunate to be far away from the outbreak of fighting in his farming village on the southeastern tip of the Korean Peninsula. As millions of people fled to seek safety, one of our neighbors even brought their family cow with them to Busan. Thankfully, my grandfather survived the war and witnessed the signing of an armistice in 1953. However, the Korean War never truly ended, and the division of our nation persists.
Unlike Vietnam and Germany, which have been reunified, Korea remains estranged. To onlookers, the stark division between democratic South Korea and repressive North Korea symbolizes the lasting impact of the Cold War. Yet, a peculiar desire for unification persists across generations and borders, reflecting the complex perceptions Koreans have of their division.
My parents’ generation lived through the aftermath of the war, enduring military dictatorship and the fear of North Korean attacks. They grew up painting anti-Communist posters in school. As for me, I grew up in a democratic and prosperous South Korea that emerged in the early 2000s. During the Sydney Olympics in 2000, I watched with tears of joy as the North and South Korean teams marched together. At that moment, I aspired to lead the Ministry of Unification and create a unified Korea.
In 2010, I had the opportunity to meet a North Korean in Vienna. We connected on a personal level, sharing our experiences of being from different regions of Korea. Although we didn’t discuss grand ideas of national unity, the memory of briefly bridging the divide left a profound impression on me.
South Koreans are taught to consider North Koreans as their own people, fostering a yearning for unification. During the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics in 2018, the sight of women’s ice hockey players from both Koreas playing as one team stirred emotions of unity. The waving of the unification flag and chants of “We are one!” demonstrated the desire for reunification. However, this dream clashes with the polarizing messages about the North that we internalize.
North Korea is portrayed as an enemy and existential threat, so sympathizing with them can be seen as a violation of national security. South Korean authorities even block many North Korean websites. While the world reacts intensely to North Korean missile launches and nuclear tests, South Koreans have become indifferent, normalized to these provocations. This indifference is one sign of the growing apathy towards the North.
Since the unity seen during the Pyeongchang Olympics, North Korea has resumed nuclear and missile testing, and inter-Korean relations have frozen again under conservative leadership. The threat of a new conflict looms, edging us further away from unification.
Every day, the idea of unification seems more like a distant illusion. The economic disparity between North and South Korea is immense. South Korea boasts a robust democratic system, while North Korea is ruled with an iron fist by the Kim dynasty. South Koreans have also become less enthusiastic about unification, especially among the younger generation. According to a survey, only 46% of respondents believed unification was necessary in 2020, the second-lowest level since 2007.
While there are still compelling arguments for unification, including shared history, language, freedom for North Koreans, and the potential for peace and self-reliance, we must also confront the challenges of reconciling cultural, ideological, and political differences. The economic burden of unification falls on the South, and we must focus on our own issues at home.
Often overlooked in the debate are the perspectives of North Koreans themselves. A survey of defectors revealed that the majority felt unification was necessary before defecting (in part due to North Korea’s pro-unification propaganda). Though I still dream of freedom, reunification, and safely reintegrating defectors, these aspirations feel more distant than ever.
During a moment of relative détente, South Korean musicians visited Pyongyang and sang a unification song at the end of their concert. Hundreds of North Koreans in the audience joined in, waving their arms in unison. Watching this, the 11-year-old in me resurfaced, and I cried. Time may numb the pain of separation, but that fleeting moment reminded me that something deeper remains.
Haeryun Kang is a Seoul-based South Korean journalist and documentary filmmaker. Her debut documentary, “Naro’s Search for Space,” explores the Korean space program.
Denial of responsibility! VigourTimes is an automatic aggregator of Global media. In each content, the hyperlink to the primary source is specified. All trademarks belong to their rightful owners, and all materials to their authors. For any complaint, please reach us at – [email protected]. We will take necessary action within 24 hours.
