“Yushin and Yushin” offers a new lens to understand Korea’s identity by examining paradoxical figures like Park Chung-hee and Kim Jae-gyu beyond simple labels.👇
1. Why This Book Was Written
“Yushin and Yushin” aims to supplement our understanding of how the modern Korean identity was shaped—both historically and ideologically. It addresses a missing link in Korea’s national narrative by examining key figures whose actions cannot be explained through simplistic moral judgments. By exploring contradictions in figures like Park Chung-hee and Kim Jae-gyu, the author offers a framework for interpreting complex historical legacies and, by extension, today’s Korea.
1.1. Park Chung-hee: The Paradox of a Patriotic Dictator
Park Chung-hee is often regarded as one of the most controversial yet transformative figures in Korean history. As a former officer in the Manchurian army under Japanese rule, Park pledged loyalty to the Japanese emperor—an act often cited to label him a traitor. Yet, he later led South Korea through dramatic economic modernization and national rebuilding.
Despite his authoritarian rule and ties to colonial forces, Park’s sincerity toward economic growth and national development was undeniable. He was driven by an unwavering sense of duty and love for the nation, albeit expressed through means that remain highly contested. This contradiction—between colonial collaboration and patriotic sacrifice—embodies the “strange patriotism” the book explores.
Many Koreans dislike Park for his dictatorship but simultaneously acknowledge his sincere efforts and achievements. This duality, both admired and resented, forms the basis of his enduring presence in Korean memory. The author wrote this book to dissect and understand this complexity, not to excuse or condemn, but to grasp what it reveals about Korea’s journey.
1.2. Kim Jae-gyu: Assassin with Devotion
Another central figure is Kim Jae-gyu, the intelligence chief who assassinated Park Chung-hee. Remarkably, even after the assassination, Kim expressed respect and admiration for Park. During his trial, he prevented others from tarnishing Park’s reputation by forbidding testimony about personal scandals.
Kim’s actions stemmed from deep internal conflict—he killed the man he deeply respected, believing it was necessary for the nation’s future. This contradiction—loyalty through betrayal—illustrates the emotional and moral complexity of historical actors, pushing us to move beyond binary interpretations of hero or villain.
1.3. Lee Jong-chan: A Moral Soldier with a Colonial Past
Lee Jong-chan, another figure examined in the book, was a high-ranking officer in the Japanese military during colonial times, which places him within the category of pro-Japanese collaborators. Yet, in 1960, during the April 19 Revolution, he famously defied President Syngman Rhee’s request to suppress student protesters. Instead, Lee declared that the military must remain politically neutral and sided with the demonstrators.
Throughout his life, Lee was remembered as a principled and ethical military man. He represents the paradox of someone who once served colonial powers but later upheld democratic values. His case challenges the assumption that historical “traitors” were incapable of redemption or sincerity in other areas.
2. What Is Meant by "Complexity"?
The term "complexity" in this book doesn’t merely mean having both good and bad traits. It refers to people who embody ideological contradictions—those who, for example, were part of colonial systems yet worked passionately for national progress. Park Chung-hee’s collaboration with Japan did not negate his commitment to Korea’s industrial development. Kim Jae-gyu’s betrayal was an act of loyalty in his eyes. Lee Jong-chan was both a colonial officer and a democratic defender.
These aren’t inconsistencies to be resolved; they are truths to be understood. The book insists that these layers must be acknowledged if we are to understand modern Korea without distortion.
3. Practical Insights Gained from the Book
The greatest value of “Yushin and Yushin” is its proposal of a new framework for interpreting modern Korean history and identity. Rather than seeing historical figures as entirely good or evil, the author invites readers to explore their contradictions and motivations.
This method offers more than academic reflection—it equips modern Koreans to better interpret the ambiguities of their current political, cultural, and social environment. The past isn’t just a record of events—it’s a mirror reflecting today’s questions of patriotism, responsibility, and national identity.
4. Final Thoughts: Learning to Understand Instead of Judge
“Yushin and Yushin” is not about excusing past wrongs. It is about understanding how individuals shaped by contradictory forces made decisions that influenced the course of a nation. Park Chung-hee was not simply a dictator or a savior. Kim Jae-gyu was not just a traitor or patriot. Lee Jong-chan was not purely a collaborator or a hero. They were all of these things, and more.
This book teaches us that grasping such complexities is essential—not just for historical accuracy, but for maturing as a society that can face its past honestly and navigate its future wisely.
