2MB’s Happy Day
August 16, 2008 | News |
Yesterday, August 15, marks the 63rd anniversary of the end of World War II, the 63rd anniversary of Korea’s liberation from Japanese forces, and the 60th anniversary of the establishment of the existing Republic in Seoul. Of these, the government decided that the last should be the subject of most celebration. Accordingly, a large ceremony was held on Sejong Street in central Seoul. President Lee Myung-Bak (a.k.a. 2MB) spoke for quite a long time; in his speech, he mentioned the “60th anniversary” fourteen times but only talked once, in passing, about the liberation in 1945. Angry at the government’s decision to totally ignore this aspect of the day — after all, the Korean name for August 15, “Gwangbokjeol”, quite literally refers to our liberation from colonial forces that had trampled our beloved homeland — all opposition parties and most citizens boycotted the official celebration. President Lee seemed pleased nonetheless. He had over ten thousand of his own loyal supporters seated right there in front of him, in orderly rows and columns under the blazing August sun.

Above: The official celebration. The Blue House (the Presidential house) is visible in the background, behind Gyeongbok Palace (dark gray roofs) after which it was modelled. The large red-and-white structure in the middle is Gwanghwamun, the main gate to the Palace, which is currently under renovation. The South-facing wall of the Palace is decorated with the Taegeuk symbol and oversized roses of Sharon (our national flower). A stylized number “60″ is also visible in the right side.

Above: Close-up of the number “60″ and the stage built in front of it. Both major streets leading to the site were closed to traffic from 7:00 p.m. the day before until a few hours after the ceremony. It is pretty difficult to get around in the area without passing one of these streets, so a lot of people were complaining about the excessive closure.

Above: Children and teenagers march at the ceremony. Can’t remember which, but these kids belong to one of the pro-government organizations. At least one of the older ones (leftmost) is apparently pissed at something… I bet some of her friends were on the other side of the barricade.
Meanwhile, groups of citizens and activists ranging from dozens to hundreds to thousands staged ceremonies and demonstrations of their own, in various locations throughout Seoul and elsewhere. Many of the more obvious locations (such as Seoul Plaza and Cheonggyecheon) were cordoned off by the police, so most of these events were held in less obvious locations such as Tapgol Park and Marronnier Park. Both of these parks had served important roles in our turbulent past, from the colonial period to the heyday of military dictatorship. Seoul is a historic city — it has been our capital for over 600 years — so there are lots of historic parks and buildings in central Seoul. They remind us of our ancestors’ struggles for freedom. They tell us that our efforts, like theirs, will be remembered and celebrated for years to come. Our gatherings aren’t as flashy as the official ceremonies appear to be, but that’s just because there’s less hypocrisy in us.

Above: Our flags are smaller, but at least they’re not bloated, distorted, or upside-down like somebody else’s. We are the plain citizens of Korea. We are the True Masters of our troubled Country.

Above: A group of citizens stage a performance to commemorate our liberation in 1945. Uh… this photo was apparently taken before the “liberation” part.

Above: “V” is back, but this time with a banner offering “condolence at the death of democracy”.
And then, evening fell. It had been arranged in advance that all the groups would get together by 7:00 p.m. for another massive candlelight demonstration. Somewhere between 4,000 and 12,000 citizens showed up — estimates vary wildly, partly because of what I’m going to say right now — but they had no place to demonstrate! Every park and plaza that can accommodate a crowd of several thousand had been closed and surrounded by riot police. And of course, the government did not issue us a permit to demonstrate. (Funny, our Constitution says very clearly that no such permit is required in order for us to exercise our right to assembly!) Once again we were forced to demonstrate on the streets; after much confusion and wandering about, we lit our candles in the Myungdong shopping district.
Barely half an hour had passed when the police arrived with water cannons. Oh yes, our gathering was illegal. We didn’t have a permit (because the government refused to give us one, for no particular reason other than that we were critical of the government’s policies — pro-government groups always get their permits); and we were interfering with traffic (because all the places in which we could demonstrate without interfering with traffic were cordoned off). So the government had manufactured for itself a convenient excuse to break us up in the name of “rule of law”, and it did. President Lee had said that morning, in his speech, that he would not tolerate breaches of law — his law.
As soon as the water cannons arrived, hundreds of police officers who were dressed in ordinary clothes and stationed among the crowd revealed themselves for who they were, all at a sudden. That’s right, the government had planted spies among the demonstrators, and the police agency isn’t trying to hide this fact, either. The spies are officially refers to as “plain-clothed arrest squad” (sabok chepojo). These men grabbed whoever they could and turned their prize over to uniformed officers waiting just a few steps away. Dozens of citizens were caught unawares in less than a minute; and thus the Manhunt of August 15 began. Did I tell you that police officers make cash for arresting anti-government protesters? The cash-reward policy was scrapped after last week’s controversy, but now the officers get promotions and gift certificates instead.


Blue dye was mixed into the water cannons, leaving smelly stains which we found were hard to remove. Then the police chased us down, arresting throughout the night anyone found stained in blue. Some people luckily got away by hiding in coffee shops and subway stations, or by changing clothes. But most demonstrators had no time to pull such tricks. According to police estimates, there were at least twice as many policemen out there as there were demonstrators. Within a couple of hours, most of us were forced to retreat to Dongdaemun, the ancient East Gate of Seoul. People were constantly getting arrested even there; the police had the entire city tightly under control. Human rights watchdogs were out there to see if arrested people were being properly notified of their rights; but when some of them complained about the inappropriate ways in which the police were acting, they too were arrested. On what crime? Slander, for heaven’s sake.
Teenagers were no exception to the brutal treatment; reporters weren’t spared, either. Just as before, onlookers on the sidewalk were also indiscriminately arrested even though they weren’t interfering with traffic or participating in any “illegal assembly”. In the government’s eye, of course, anyone who goes near an anti-government demonstration is just another anti-government sympathizer, deserving of harsh treatment. There are even reports that police officers argued among themselves in order to take credit for arresting a particular person. See what a little bit of cash can do to our once-trusty keepers of law and order!


Weather has definitely been on the government’s side for the last few weeks; it rains every weekend in Seoul! By 11:00 p.m. when some of the major NGO’s called it a day, over one hundred demonstrators were behind bars, many of them injured. Notwithstanding the departure of major NGO’s, several hundred demonstrators — many of them angry citizens — continued to stage guerilla demonstrations well into the early morning hours. Around 5:00 a.m., three hundred demonstrators caught the police by surprise when they jumped out of an obscure alleyway and tried to march to Jongno Street. The attempt was quickly frustrated, and more arrests followed.
According to the police, 157 demonstrators had been arrested by 7:00 a.m. This represents the third largest number of arrests on a single night since our demonstrations began, after May 31 (when 228 were arrested) and August 5 (when 167 were arrested). Altogether, over 1,300 citizens have been put behind bars this summer for demonstrating. The police has a knack of keeping arrested demonstrators locked up for almost exactly 48 hours, the legal limit for custodies without warrants. After 48 hours, all except the most “important” individuals would be released, but a fine of $1,000 to $5,000 would be waiting for them in their mailbox. Several legal experts are trying to help citizens fight against this fine, but no court case has been tested so far.
All in all, August 15 seems to have been a happy day for President Lee and his small group of followers. They had their celebration; their opponents (that is, the rest of us) suffered a lot, and their scare tactics (arbitrary arrests and hefty fines) are apparently making a lot of ordinary citizens too scared to protest. On major Internet forums where many of the demonstrations are being organized, I have seen an increasing number of teenagers apologizing that they can’t come because their parents think it’s too dangerous. Gone are the days when “girls would come to demonstrate in high heels and miniskirts, hand-in-hand with their boyfriends”, as one of Korea’s better-known columnists said about our recent protests. And of course, pro-government newspapers and government-controlled TV stations are doing a fabulous job underreporting the significance and importance of the issues we’re concerned with. For them, the future is rosy with President Lee. For the rest of us, it’s getting bleaker every day.
