Indeed, there are a number of English expressions that indicate the value of moderation and temperance. For example, we frequently say in English, “Don’t overdo it”, or “Don’t push your luck”. We also say, “He went too far”, “He crossed the line”, or “There’s a limit I won’t go beyond”. Expressions such as “That’s not fair” also imply the importance of moderation.
Moderation, then, is a universal virtue, whether Confucian or Christian. Korea has traditionally been labelled as a Confucian society. A true Confucian society should be populated by those who are moderate, temperate and restrained. In reality, however, Koreans have a reputation for being impetuous and quick-tempered. Foreigners point out that Koreans are very emotional, and easily aggravated and manipulated. It is true that when provoked, most Koreans do not seem to be able to control their feelings, and often resort to extreme outbursts, violent reactions or emotional eruptions.
One example is the Dokdo Island controversy between South Korea and Japan. When Japanese rightwing politicians provoked South Korea over the issue some time ago, the Korean people instantly boiled over. Instead of dealing with the issue calmly and rationally, we immediately staged protest rallies and our president rushed to visit the deserted island. Our hasty, emotional reactions remind us of Voltaire: “A wise man is superior to any insults which can be put upon him, and the best reply to unseemly behaviour is patience and moderation.”
It would be incorrect, therefore, for Westerners to stereotype Korea as a Confucian society. Today’s society is radically different from its predecessor during the Joseon Dynasty, which indeed was heavily influenced by Confucian philosophy. In fact, Koreans no longer subscribe to Confucian philosophy and few Koreans read the works of Confucius. Korean society is a place where Asian and Western culture co-exist, and where a curious mixture of capitalism and socialism prevails.
Nevertheless, many Westerners still wrongfully assume that Confucian philosophy is prevalent in Korean society and its education system. Some foreigners assume that under the influence of Confucianism, Koreans unconditionally accept the will of their parents, teachers and superiors. An American recently wrote, “It is my belief that the Korean educational system’s biggest obstacle to producing more creative minds is a pervasive cultural problem rooted in Confucianism. One is taught to blindly accept the will of anyone above you in the chain of command.” Perhaps the statement is applicable to early or mid-20th century Korea. But it is no longer true these days. Today, few Korean students blindly accept the will of their parents, teachers or superiors.
Recently, some Westerners came up with a strange theory about the unfortunate crash of the Asiana Boeing 777 in San Francisco. They pointed to the possibility that the Confucian custom of blind obedience to superiors may have caused the crash. Such a statement is a cultural misunderstanding. Few Koreans would agree with the theory, because there is no longer such blind obedience in Korean society. The chain of command, filial piety and respect for elders are rapidly diminishing. And so is the virtue of moderation.
Perhaps the only vestige of Confucianism found in today’s Korea is Mencius’ philosophy that emphasises the importance of the people, not the king. That is why in Korea, people power has always been so strong and demonstrations abound. Karatani Kojin, the celebrated Japanese thinker, recently confessed that he was amazed by a scene in a Korean historical TV drama in which cabinet ministers of the Joseon Dynasty objected to the king’s decree citing the people’s welfare. Karatani said that such disobedience was not tolerated in pre-modern Japan.
Korea is no longer Confucian. At school, Korean students frequently challenge their teachers; at work, employees often disobey their superiors and go on strike. The Korean people do not easily accept or succumb to decisions made by authorities. It would be a grave mistake, therefore, to assume that Koreans blindly accept the will of their parents, teachers, bosses, politicians or anyone above them.
Kim Seong-kon is a professor of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea.