Myth
and Implications of the Kwangju People's Uprising*
by George Katsiaficas
Archimedes once declared, “Give me a fixed point and I can move the earth.”
Historically speaking, the Kwangju people';s uprising of 1980 is such a
fixed point. It was the pivot around which dictatorship was transformed into democracy
in South Korea. Twenty years afterwards, its energy resonates strongly across
the world. Among other things, its history provides both a glimpse of the free
society of the future and a sober and realistic assessment of the role of the
U.S. government and its allies in Asia.
As we begin the new millennium, the image of the U.S. government and corporations
in the American public';s eye is patterned by the economic prosperity enjoyed
by so many people. Mass media portrayals of history continually remind us that
we are the “good guys.” We “won” the Cold War, defeating the
“evil empire”; we are helping forces of democracy around the world –
or so we are told. Since the history of the Kwangju uprising contradicts such
claims, it should come as no surprise that its story has yet to be widely told
in the United States. The Kwangju uprising';s brutal suppression at the
beckoning of American authorities (who did not want a “second Iran”)
has awoken many people to the role of the US.
The most important dimensions of the Kwangju uprising, however, are its affirmation
of human dignity and prefiguration of a free society. Kwangju has a meaning in
Korean history that can only be compared to that of the Paris Commune in French
history, and of the battleship Potemkin in Russian history. Like the Paris Commune,
the people of Kwangju spontaneously rose up and governed themselves until they
were brutally suppressed by indigenous military forces abetted by an outside power.
And like the battleship Potemkin, the people of Kwangju have repeatedly signaled
the advent of revolution in Koreaóin recent times from the 1894 Tonghak
rebellion and the 1929 student revolt to the 1980 uprising.
Forged in the sacrifices of thousands, the mythical power of the Kwangju people's
uprising was tempered in the first five years after 1980, when the dictatorship
tried to cover up its massacre of as many as 2000 people. Even after the Kwangju
Commune had been ruthlessly crushed, the news of the uprising was so subversive
that the military burned an unknown number of corpses, dumped others into unmarked
graves, and destroyed its own records. To prevent word of the uprising from being
spoken publicly, thousands of people were arrested, and hundreds tortured as the
military tried to suppress even a whisper of its murders. In 1985, thousands of
copies of the first book about the Kwangju uprising, Lee Jae-eui';s classic history
(translated into English as Kwangju Diary: Beyond Death, Beyond the Darkness of
the Age ), were confiscated and its publisher and suspected author arrested. Korean
civil society is so strong that when the truth about the military's brutal killing
of so many of its own citizens and subsequent suppression of the facts became
known, the government quickly fell. As Lee Jae-eui put it: “The reason why
the Korean people could overcome that terrible violence so quickly in 1987 was
because of Kwangju';s resistance.” President Chun Doo Hwan and his military
government may have won the battle of May 1980, but the democracy movement won
the war--seven long years later when the Minjung movement ousted the military
dictatorship.
Myths are sometimes regarded as unimportant, as mere legends of days of old. As
George Sorel observed at the beginning of the 20th century, however, myths in
an instant can portray the entire gestalt of realities that are normally hidden
form view, particularly the aspirations of a social movement. Myths can connect
people instantaneously to what factsî laboriously seek to prove. Indeed,
as isolated fragments of a larger reality, facts can often be used to proveî
utterly false whole pictures. In the case of social science, we see this quite
clearly with positivistic studies, particularly those produced by the control
center. Furthermore, facts exist in a socially constructed context. Myths refer
directly to such contexts, while facts often attempt to create the context inductivelyóa
problematic assertion since the whole is not merely the sum of the parts. Finally,
as Hegel said, that which is cannot be true. The birth of the new and its continual
emergence are not contained in the universe of the facticity of the given. When
myths are believed and acted upon by emergent groups, they can become a material
force.
Since today';s global society is tied together in an increasingly thick
web by the mass media, jets, fax, telephones, the internet and a host of new technologies,
the importance of context and popular aspirations are arguably greater today than
in the past. Since the world is changing more rapidly today than at any other
time in history, the emergence of new qualities is especially significant.
Like the Paris Commune and the battleship Potemkin, Kwangju';s historical
significance is international, not simply Korean (or French or Russian). Its meaning
and lessons apply equally well to East and West, North and South. The 1980 people’s
uprising, like these earlier symbols of revolution, has already had worldwide
repercussions. I believe these will become better understood because of this conference.
As a symbol of struggle, Kwangju has inspired others to act. As an example of
ordinary people taking power into their own hands, it was (and is) a precursor
of events to follow. Sanjeewa Liyanage of Hong Kong expressed it well when he
wrote:
The “power of people” is so strong that it just cannot be destroyed
by violent suppressive means. Such power, from the people, spreads a spirit that
will last for generations. Kwangju is a city full of that people power.î
What happened in 1980, in Kwangju, was not just an isolated incident. It has brought
new light and hope to many people who are still suffering from brutally oppressive
regimes and military-led governmentsÖthe strength and will of people of Kwangju
to carry on their agitative actions was very impressiveÖToday many look up
to them, paying tribute to that they have achievedÖI was inspired by their
courage and spirit. Kwangju remains a unique sign that symbolizes a people';s
power that cannot be suppressed. That sign is a flame of hope for many othersÖ
In this paper, I seek to understand the power of the people';s uprising
of 1980 in three dimensions:
--the capacity for self-government
--the organic solidarity of the participants
--the international significance of the uprising
The Capacity for Self-Government
As monumental as the courage and bravery of the people in Kwangju were, their
capacity for self-government is the defining hallmark of their revolt. In my view,
it is the single most remarkable aspect of the uprising. The capacity for self-organization
that emerged spontaneously, first in the heat of the battle and later in the governing
of the city and the final resistance when the military counterattacked, is mind
expanding. In the latter part of the 20th century, high rates of literacy, the
mass media, and universal education (which in Korea includes military training
for every man) have forged a capacity in millions of people to govern themselves
far more wisely than the tiny elites all too often ensconced in powerful positions.
We can observe this spontaneous capacity for self-government in the events of
the Kwangju uprising.
On May 15, one million people participated in a student demonstration in Seoul,
a huge outpouring of sentiment against the dictatorship. Some people thought the
time to overthrow the dictatorship had come, but student leaders, flush with their
success and under pressure from liberal politicians, decided to suspend actions
scheduled for the 17th and 18th in the hopes that the government might end martial
law. Instead the military clamped down, sending thousands of combat troops to
all the large cities, especially to Kwangju. On May 14, students there at Chonnam
National University had broken through the riot police cordon enveloping their
campus. When they reached the city, many citizens supported their demonstration
for democracy. On May 16, when the rest of South Korea was quiet, students from
nine universities in Kwangju rallied at Province Hall Square, renamed it Democracy
Square,î and then marched through the city in a torchlight procession. The
next night, military intelligence personnel and police raided homes of activists
across the city, arresting the leadership of the movement. Those leaders not picked
up went into hiding. Already at least 26 of the movement';s national leaders
(including Kim Dae Jung) had been rounded up. According to one observer: The head
of the movement was paralyzed.î Another wrote that the leading body of the
students'; movement was in a state of paralysis.î Nonetheless the
very next morning, students spontaneously organized themselves--first by the hundreds
and then by the thousands--to march in protest of the occupation of their city
by police and freshly arrived units of the army.
With US approval, the government had released from the front lines of the DMZ
some of its most seasoned paratroopers, the same army units that had crushed movements
in Pusan and Masan a year earlier. Once these troops reached Kwangju, they terrorized
the population in unimaginable ways. In the first confrontations on the morning
of May 18, heads of defenseless students were broken by specially designed clubs.
As demonstrators scrambled for safety and regrouped to counterattack, 45 riot
police were suddenly surrounded and captured by demonstrators at Sansu-tong Junction
on May 18. For a time, people debated what to do with their captives. They soon
decided to release them, and immediately after they were set free, the paratroopers
viciously attacked: A cluster of troops attacked each student individually. They
would crack his head, stomp on his back, and kick him in the face. When the soldiers
were done, he looked like a pile of clothes in meat sauce.î Bodies were
piled into trucks, where soldiers continued to beat and kick them. By night the
paratroopers had set up camp at several universities. As students continued to
fight back, soldiers used bayonets on them and arrested dozens more people, many
of whom were stripped naked and further brutalized. One young child who witnessed
these events asked her parents when their army was coming. Another child, having
been taught political values at a tender age, screamed that Communists had taken
over the army. One soldier brandished his bayonet at captured students and screamed
at them, "This is the bayonet I used to cut 40 VC women's breasts [in Vietnam]!"
The entire population was in shock from the paratroopers'; overreaction.
The paratroopers were so out of control that they even stabbed to death the director
of information of the police station who tried to get them to stop brutalizing
people. Despite severe beatings and hundreds of arrests, students continually
regrouped and tenaciously fought back.
As the city mobilized the next day, the number of students among the protesters
was dwarfed by people from all walks of life. This spontaneous generation of a
peoples'; movement transcended traditional divisions between town and gown,
one of the first indications of the generalization of the revolt. When working
people began to participate, the paratroopers once again resorted to callous brutality--killing
and maiming people whom they happened to encounter in the streets. Even cab drivers
and bus drivers seeking to aid wounded and bleeding people were stabbed, beaten
and sometimes killed. Some policemen secretly tried to release captives, and they,
too, were bayoneted. People fought back with stones, bats, knives, pipes, iron
bars and hammers against 18,000 riot police and over 3000 paratroopers. Although
many people were killed, the city refused to be quieted.
On May 20, a newspaper called the Militants'; Bulletin provided accurate
newsóunlike the official media. Tens of thousands of people gathered on
Kumnam Avenue and sang, Our wish is national reunification.î They were dispersed
by paratroopers'; clubs. At 5:50pm, as the brutality and resistance continued,
a crowd of 5000 surged over a police barricade. When the paratroopers drove them
back, they reassembled and sat-in on a road. They then selected representatives
to try and split the police from the army. In the evening, the march swelled to
over 200,000 people (some say 300,000) in a city with a population of 700,000.
The massive crowd unified workers, farmers, students and people from all walks
of life. The procession on Kumnam Avenue, the downtown shopping area, was led
by nine buses and over 200 taxis. Once again, the paratroopers viciously attacked,
and this time, the whole city fought back. During the night, cars, jeeps, taxis,
and other vehicles were set on fire and pushed into the military';s forces.
Although the Army attacked repeatedly, the evening ended in a stalemate at Democracy
Square. At the train station, many demonstrators were killed, and at Province
Hall, the paratroopers open3ed fire on the crowd with M-16s, killing many more.
The censored media had failed to report killings that occurred right under their
noses. Instead, false reports of vandalism and minor police response were the
news that they fabricated. The brutality of the army was still unmentioned. After
that night';s news again failed to report accurately the situation, thousands
of people surrounded the MBC media building. Soon the management of the station
and the soldiers guarding it retreated, and the crowd surged inside. Unable to
get the broadcast facility working, people torched the building. The crowd targeted
buildings quite intelligently:
At 1:00 in the morning, citizens went in flocks to the Tax Office, broke its furniture
and set fire to it. The reason was that taxes which should be used for people';s
lives and welfare had been used for the army and the production of the arms to
kill and beat people. It was a very unusual case to set fire to the broadcasting
stations and tax office while protecting the police station and other public buildings.
Besides the Tax Office and two media buildings, the Labor Supervision Office,
Province Hall car depot and 16 police boxes were burned down. The final battle
at the train station around 4 a.m. was intense. Soldiers again used M-16s against
the crowd, killing many in the front ranks. Others climbed over the bodies to
carry the fight to the army. With incredible fortitude, the people prevailed,
and the army beat a hasty retreat.
At 9 a.m. the next morning, more than 100,000 people gathered again on Kumnam
Avenue. A small group shouted that some people should go to Asia Motors (a military
contractor) and seize vehicles. A few dozen people went off, bringing back only
seven (the exact number of rebels who knew how to drive). As they shuttled more
drivers back and forth, soon 350 vehicles, including three armored personnel carriers,
were in the hands of the people. Driving these expropriated vehicles around the
city, the demonstrators rallied the populace and also went to neighboring villages
to spread the revolt. Some trucks brought bread and drinks from the Coca-Cola
factory to the main demonstration. Negotiators were selected and sent to the military.
Suddenly gunshots pierced the already thick atmosphere, ending hope for a peaceful
settlement. For ten minutes, the army indiscriminately fired, and in the carnage,
dozens were killed and over 500 wounded.
The people quickly responded. Less than two hours after the shootings, the first
police station was raided for arms. More people formed action teams and raided
police and national guard armories, and assembled at two central points. Apparently
the long-held tradition, so valued in Korea, of never rising with arms against
a Korean government was suddenly transcended by thousands of people. With assistance
from coal miners from Hwasun, demonstrators obtained large quantities of dynamite
and detonators. Seven busloads of women textile workers drove to Naju, where they
captured hundreds of rifles and ammunition and brought them back to Kwangju. Similar
arms seizures occurred in Changsong, Yonggwang and Tamyang counties.
The movement quickly spread to Hwasun, Naju, Hampyung, Youngkwang, Kangjin, Mooan,
Haenam, Mokpoóin all to at least 16 other parts of southwest Korea. The
rapid proliferation of the revolt is another indication of people';s capacity
for self-government and autonomous initiative. Hoping to bring the uprising to
Chunju and Seoul, some demonstrators set out but were repulsed by troops blocking
the expressway, roads, and railroads. In Mokpo, birthplace of Kim Dae Jung, 100,000
people marched to protest the arrest of their favorite son, and there were five
consecutive days of rallies for a democratic constitution. In Chonju, people took
over city hall. In Jeonji and Iri, police were reported to have joined the demonstration.
Helicopter gunships wiped out units of armed demonstrators from Hwasun and Yonggwang
counties trying to reach Kwangju. If the military had not so tightly controlled
the media and restricted travel, the revolt may well have turned into a nationwide
uprising, as some people hoped. The Sabuk miners'; revolt, Pu-Ma Incident
and hundreds of other struggles indicated that conditions were ripe for action
in many quarters.
Assembling at Kwangju Park and Yu-tong Junction, combat cells and leadership formed.
Machine guns were brought to bear on Province Hall (where the military had its
command post). By 5:30, the army retreated; by 8 p.m. the people controlled the
city. Cheering echoed everywhere. Although their World War 2 weapons were far
inferior to those of the army, people';s bravery and sacrifices proved more
powerful than the technical superiority of the army.
For five days, the citizens held the city. Spontaneously formed citizens';
councils organized all essential services, including defense of the city, and
they simultaneously negotiated with the military for more coffins, release of
the thousands of prisoners (some of whom were already being viciously tortured),
as well as for a peaceful end to the conflict. Rubbish from the fighting was quickly
cleared away without anyone being told to do so. At the same time, the armed resistance
was organized in earnest. At Kwangju Park, 78 vehicles lined up, were painted
with numbers and assigned to patrol specific parts of the city to guard against
the coming counterattack. An operations office of the Citizens'; Army (CA)
was established and issued passports for access to their headquarters, safe conduct
passes for vehicles and coupons for gasoline. An investigations bureau was formed
to ferret out military agents, but it appears that it was itself heavily infiltrated.
The emergence of organization appears to have happened quite naturally. The process
was obvious to everyone. Even the government at one point publicly referred to
the uprising as community self-rule.î At about 10:30 a.m. on May 22 a group
of eight evangelical pastors met to appraise the situation. One of them was Arnold
Peterson, a Baptist missionary who happened to be in Kwangju. He later remembered
the pastors'; appraisal:
The consensus of their feeling is summed up in the phrase This cannot be.î
It was unheard of that the citizens of a city should rise up and throw off their
government with no conscious planning and leadership.
There may have been no leadership in place when the uprising began, but the crucible
of the fighting produced many resolute enemies of the military. Others only feared
the army all the more because of their brutality. Soon two groups, sometimes referred
to as councils, formed in liberated Kwangju: a Citizens'; Settlement Committee
(CSC) and a Student Action Committee (SAC). The CSC, or May 18th General Citizens
Settlement Committee, as it was formally known, consisted of about 20 people:
priests, clergymen, lawyers, professors and politicians. Led by Ch';oe Han-yong,
a respected anti-Japanese activist, they formed hours before the SAC (also on
the 22nd) and almost immediately began negotiating with the martial law authorities.
They attempted to find as peaceful as possible a solution to the uprising.
Unlike the CSC, the tempestuous origins of the SAC involved many people who had
not previously been introduced to each other. Testifying years later about his
personal experiences in the uprising, Professor Song Ki-sook recounted these events.
He and Professor Myeong Lo-geun were approached at a rally at the fountain on
May 22, the same day Peterson was attending his pastoral meeting. Myeong was asked
to gather activists and create a headquarters to lead an effort to cope with the
situation.î People were concerned that the past histories of members of
the CSC indicated that they were not going to lead the struggle but to sell it
out. Song Ki-sook was against taking any action, but he went along with Myeong.
Holding a bullhorn given to him by a student, Myeong began to speak: Please choose
five representatives among Chonnam National University and Chosson University
students respectively.î He continued:
Though paratroopers are now driven out, the citizens'; army is bewildered
and in the middle of confusion with no headquarters. A citizens'; settlement
committee has already formed and went to Sangmudae with the settlement conditions,
but it cannot control the citizens'; army. This whole thing was started
by students and they should take a lead in straightening things out. Let';s
go into the provincial government building and organize a student settlement committee.
With that, Professor Myeong led the crowd to the front gate of Province Hall,
where the citizens'; army, wearing backwards the protective helmets taken
from the riot police, kept guard in a tense atmosphere. The 10 student representatives
were allowed to enter the building, and were escorted into the administrative
office, where complete chaosî transpired. Many of the militants inside refused
at first to even discuss a student settlement committeeópreferring to fight
until deathî for democracy and dignity. Patiently Professor Song prevailed
and a political arm of the students, the SAC, was formed.
The SAC took care of funerals, alternative media, vehicle control and weapons
collection and distribution, while the CSC negotiated with the military. Sometimes
the two councils issued joint statements, but they also worked at cross purposes.
On May 24, for example, when more than 100,000 people assembled for that day';s
rally, the CSC scuttled the loudspeakers. Amplification equipment was finally
brought in from elsewhere, but members of the CSC kept unplugging it. Despite
pouring rain, people stayed, and an electrician hooked the sound system up to
a car battery. Afterwards, the SAC convened an emotional meeting. There was much
debate, and a small majority favored turning in all their weapons. The minority,
however, refused to consent to such a surrender. As the night wore on, moderates
resigned from the group, leaving the minority in charge. Workers and activists
were then added to its leadership, and its name was changed to the Citizen-Student
Action Committee (CSAC).
This transformation of the SAC into the CSAC reflected the leading role now played
by the working class. Although students had sparked the uprising, they were unable
to remain the leading force. I have already mentioned the Hwasun coal miners and
women textile workers. There are numerous other examples of working-class leadership
to which one can point. Peterson reported that on the 21st, In a conversation
I had with Pastor Chang, he was careful to emphasize that the ones who seized
guns were not students. Instead they were young jobless and working men.î
Lee reports that while many citizens surrendered their firearms to the Citizen
Settlement Committee on May 22, Workers and members of the underclass, however,
would not abandon their guns.î These militants hoped to spark a nationwide
uprising to overthrow the dictatorshipóand they were willing to die trying
to restore democracy in one fell swoop. They demanded qualitative changes in Korean
politicsónot only the lifting of martial law, release of all prisoners,
and a caretaker government, but the resignation of Chun Doo Hwan and full democratization.
The struggle for student autonomy had spontaneously metamorphosized into a struggle
for social autonomy and democracy.
As should now be clear, the SAC served as the nucleus of an increasingly dedicated
constellation of people whose resolute courage and clear vision guided the peoples';
uprising. Of all the remarkable individuals who starred in the battle of Kwangju,
no one shone brighter than Yun Sang-won. During the huge rally on May 21 (with
over 200,000 people), Yun personally led one of the assaults on arms depots, and
he was also involved in the group that took control of three armored personnel
carriers and 350 other vehicles at Asia Motors Company. In the intense atmosphere
of military snipers firing on public areas, endless meetings, daily mass rallies,
and occasional skirmishes, Yun emerged as the only one who had a strategic view.î
He believed that by creating pockets of resistance,î thereby helping to
make the price higherî for the dictatorship, the uprising would raise the
stakes, in effect telling the regime: îif you do not have the guts to kill
more people, you surrender. And if you do have enough guts, then you prove yourself
barbarians.î They also hoped other rebellions would break out.
Along with a small number of others, some of whom were members of groups like
Wildfire (a night school for workers), Clown (an activist theatrical troupe),
and the National Democratic Workers'; League, Chun and Yun published a daily
newspaper, the Militants'; Bulletin, which they used to stiffen and inspire
the armed resistance. They successfully outmaneuvered the mayor and more conservative
members of the council. Making an alliance with Park Nam Son, the emergent leader
of the armed fighters, Yun appears to have been the energy center as a spectrum
of militant individuals merged together and devoted themselves to a single focusócontinuing
armed resistance. Significantly, many of the members of this more militant group
had previously participated in a study group about the Paris Commune with poet
Kim Nam-zu.
Refusing to place his name at the titular head of the council, he approved the
appointment of a chairman and vice-chairman. Named the spokesmanî for the
council, he also coordinated public relations, planning and supply. The P.R. division
organized four working clusters of people: one to drive vehicles with loudspeakers
through the streets to make announcements; another publishing the daily Militants';
Bulletin and other materials; a third to raise funds and encourage people to donate
blood; and finally a group that organized the daily rallies. They also coordinated
a rapid response unit and made sure the outposts were supplied.
On the night of May 26, families of soldiers stationed near Kwangju, informed
the resistance fighters that the military was going to move in the next morning.
Yun was among the hundreds of people who fought to the death. In the final battle,
on May 27, a tank column led the assault to retake the city, and dozens more peopleóincluding
Yun Sang-won--were killed.
As significant as the role of Yun Sang-won was, he and his small organization
were unable to control the popular movement. In the dialectic of spontaneity and
organization, it was clearly the popular movement';s impulses that held
sway in Kwangju. Many of the militants who fought the army used their own initiative
rather than following the suggestions of the Citizens'; Army. On May 22,
for example, Bag Naepoong refused to head to Youngsan-Po as the CA thought he
should. Instead he went to Hwasun train station with four others, where they were
able to procure arms for themselves and return to Kwangju. This particular case
of individual initiative ended well, yet the lack of strategic organization cost
the communards dearly. The Militants'; Bulletin called for people to occupy
the KBS [television station] to let our reality be known to the whole country
through broadcasting.î During the fighting, however, the crowd torched the
place. If people had listened to Yun';s group, would they have been able
to broadcast news of the uprising to the rest of the country? Would a nationwide
uprising have then occurred? Clearly, strategic leadership both in Kwangju and
the nation was needed, particularly for the militants to have succeeded in overthrowing
the government. In hindsight, of course, this weakness of the movement is easily
visible, but options were limited in the heat of battle. The main feeling in Kwangju
was one of solidarity, and it is to this dimension of the Commune that I now turn.
Organic Solidarity
The city was no longer under government control. The people of Kwangju were building
a commune, but the price for the new system was their blood. The morning of May
21 saw a new sight on the street corners. Meals had been prepared for demonstrators
and were prepared on every street, at all the busy intersections. Women stopped
the appropriated vehicles to offer food to the occupants. Street and market vendors,
some of the main eyewitnesses to the government';s brutality, organized
food distribution. Meanwhile the rich parts of town emptied outÖHundreds
of housewives fed the demonstrators on Kumnam Avenue. Nobody drankÖThis unity
fed the fighting spirit of all the rebels.î
After the military had been driven out of the city on May 21, hundreds of fighters
in the citizens'; army patrolled the city. Joy and relief were shared by
everyone. The fighting was over and the city was free. Markets and stores were
open for business, and food, water and electricity were available as normally.
No banks were looted, and normal crimes like robbery, rape or theft hardly occurredóif
at all. Foreigners freely walked the streets. Indeed, Peterson reported that his
car, flying an American flag and with a large sign reading Foreigners';
Car,î was cheered by people in the streets. Coffins, gasoline and cigarettes
were in short supply. While the CSC attempted to procure more coffins from the
army, gasoline was rationed by the CSC, and cigarettes were shared by people with
their newly found comrades in arms, happy to be alive. For some people, sharing
cigarettes symbolized an important part of the communal experience. Storeowners
who still had cigarettes often soldóor gave awayóone pack at a time
(to be fair to everyone). Blood had been in short supply at the hospital, but
as soon as the need became known, people flooded in to donate it, including barmaids
and prostitutes, who at one point publicly insisted that they, too, be permitted
to donate. At many of the rallies, thousands of dollars for the settlement committees
was quickly raised through donations. All these examples are indications of how
remarkably the whole city came together. Many eyewitnesses commented on the new
feeling of solidarity among the populace:
Öduring the whole period of the uprising, Kwangju City coped with the crisis
through humanitarian cooperation. Kwangju citizens shared possessions with each
other, and being dependent on each other, they encouraged each other in their
isolated situation. They shared food with those who were in need of it, donated
blood to the wounded, and willingly helped anyone who was in needÖIn spite
of the complete absence of an official peace and order system, the Kwangju citizens
maintained peace and order perfectly. Though so many firearms were in the hands
of citizens, no incident took place due to it. Even financial agencies or jeweler';s
shops in which crimes are apt to happen in ordinary times were free from any criminal
act.
A professor at a Kwangju university who remained anonymous for his own safety
wrote:
The citizens, who used to buy up everything in sight no matter what the price,
shared their daily necessities. Merchants who used to be impatient and charge
high mark-ups didn';t raise prices at all. Citizens participated, offering
tobacco, pajamas, food, and drinkÖNo infamous crime which might have been
expected was committed, no robbery of money from defenseless banks was undertaken
by the armed citizens. They did not harm any of the resident aliens in Kwangju.
Indeed, the Japanese Catholic Association for Peace and Justice wrote a statement
on June 6, 1980 in which they verified these observations:
The ones who didn';t join in, who didn';t witness the firmly united
citizens, can';t understand this feeling of liberation. They could have
seen the tears on the faces of the young men, who devoted themselves to defend
democracy. Their chests were splattered with blood. They shouted the slogans with
bloody bands around their heads, until their throats got sore. Our beloved neighbors,
young and innocent children, and even housekeepers were now joining the parading
carsÖPeople who couldn';t get on the cars brought rice wrapped in seaweed
and drinksÖThey wanted to give eggs, bread, cokes, milk, and juices to the
demonstrators. Stuffing all the food into a box, an old man was not able to lift
it up. I lifted it up and put it into a car that I just stopped. I could read
the resolution to struggle to the death on their faces. Housekeepers who couldn';t
prepare food brought buckets of water, offered it to them to drink and cleaned
up their faces. Some citizens ran along with the vehiclesÖIt was a struggle
of blood and love to share lives with others: a man who tapped a participant';s
back to cheer, a pharmacist who brought out medicines and drinks, and the crowd
who did their best, clapping and cheering.
In June 1980, the Roman Catholic priests of Kwangju Archdiocese reiterated these
same themes:
While the army cut off communication with the outside and no necessities or food
were provided, no one made undue profits by buying things up or being indisposed
to sell things. Without knowing when the situation was going to end, people shared
their food with each other. As the number of patients who got shot increased and
blood was needed, the number of citizens who donated blood skyrocketedÖKwangju
citizens swept the scattered stone, glass and fragments of tear gas canisters,
doctors and nurses moved patients from the city while risking getting shot; bus
and taxi drivers protected young people without thinking about their own lives;
juvenile vagrants and abandoned children were more virtuous than ever beforeÖ
How do we explain this sudden solidarity, this emergence of a new form of bonding
between people? How do we understand the suspension of normal values like competitive
business practices and individual ownership of consumer goods and their replacement
with cooperation and collectivity?
For days, citizens voluntarily cleaned the streets, cooked rice served free meals
in the marketplace, and kept constant guard against the expected counterattack.
Everyone contributed to and found their place in liberated Kwangju. Spontaneously
a new division of labor emerged. The citizens'; army, many of whom had stayed
up all night, nonetheless were models of responsibility. People dubbed the new
militia the Citizens'; Armyî or our alliesî (as opposed to the
army, our enemy.î) They protected the people and the people, in turn, took
care of them. Without any indoctrination and none of the military madness that
elicits monstrous behavior in armies around the world, the men and women of the
CA behaved in an exemplary fashion. Unafraid to impose a new type of order based
on the needs of the populace, they disarmed all middle school and high school
students, an action for which the Militants'; Bulletin took responsibility.
When the final assault was imminent, Yun Sang-won personally insisted that the
high schoolers among the militants return home so they could survive and continue
the struggle. After many protests and with tears in their eyes, the younger militants
departed.
The CA served the people, and the popular will was directly formulated at daily
rallies around the fountain at Prrovince Hall Square. Renamed Democracy Squareî
on May 16, the space was holy even before the liberation of the city. A poem written
that day by the Congregation for the Democratization of Chonnam Province began
with these inspired lines:
The sky of the south was beautiful
There was no angel blowing a trumpet.
Nor colorful butterflies scattering flowers around.
Still the sky of the south was beautiful.
The day when the fountain stopped scattering colorful water,
The day when the artificial flower withered,
I came to you and you came one step closer to me.
The day when the pepper fog and tear gas stopped.
People came from the Mujin plain.
All democratic citizens: intellectuals, laborers, farmers.
People gathered in front of the fountain of the provincial capital.
People tried to touch the fountain.
Sitting on the lawn, hugging each other
Exchanging smiles with each other
There is no song as beautiful as this,
The song we sang all together.
The ability to assemble peacefully by the thousands was a right won through the
blood of too many friends and neighbors. Instinctively, the people of Kwangju
recognized the square as their spiritual home, and they assembled there every
day by the tens of thousands. The daily rallies became the setting for a new kind
of direct democracy where everyone had a say. Of the five rallies that occurred
during the time the city was liberated, huge crowds attended each. The first massive
rally was a spontaneously organized gathering to celebrate the defeat of the military
the day after the army retreated. The next day, (May 23) at the First Citywide
Rally for Democracy, the crowd swelled to 150,000. It ended with the people singing
Our Wish is National Unification.î On May 24, over 100,000 people assembled;
there were 50,000 on May 25 (where the resignation of the Settlement Committee
was demanded); and 30,000 at the end of the final rally on May 26. At this last
gathering, the demand for a new government of national salvation emerged. The
final act of the people that day was to sing once again Our Wish is National Unification.î
Even though the rallies were huge, many people were able to express heartfelt
needs. As Lee Jae-eui described it:
The fountain was now the center of unity. All walks and classes of people spokeówomen
street vendors, elementary school teachers, followers of different religions,
housewives, college students, high school students and farmers. Their angry speeches
created a common consciousness, a manifestation of the tremendous energy of the
uprising. They had melded together, forging a strong sense of solidarity throughout
the uprising. For the moment, the city was one.
Alongside the unity of the city, regional loyaltiesólong the cause of division
and strife in Koreaóbecame less important than the struggle for democracy.
On May 21, the Jeonnam Newsletter of Democracy proclaimed: Let us actively participate
in the struggle for democracy, remembering that what we want is not to blur our
goal under the spell of regional animosity, nor do we want indiscriminate destruction
but autonomous action based on the democratic spirit. The suspension of regionalism
is another indication of the universal appeal of the revolt-an appeal not confined
to Cholla or even to Korea. I now turn to the uprising';s international
implications.
International Revolts After the Kwangju Uprising
In 1985, East Asian dictatorships, in power for decades, seemed unshakable. Both
Kim Dae Jung and Benigno Aquino, popular leaders of vast democratic strata, were
in exile in the U.S. where they got acquainted. Although brutally repressed, the
Korean movement continued the struggle to overthrow the dictatorship. After the
massacre of May 27, 1980, it took two years for the families of the victims to
meet, and five years passed before the first book about the uprising appeared.
On May 17, 1985, coordinated protests at 80 colleges and universities involved
some 38,000 students who called for the truth about the killings to be made public.
A week later, 73 Seoul students occupied the US Information Service building for
three days in an attempt to compel an apology from the US government for its role.
On August 15, as protests continued, Hong Ki Il burned himself to death on Kwangju';s
main street because of the government';s failure to reveal the truth.
After decades in which democracy was repressed throughout East Asia, a wave of
revolts and uprisings transformed the region. In 18 days of February 1986 in the
Philippines, the walk-out of 30 computer operators counting the votes in an election
sparked a sudden end to the Marcos dictatorship. The confrontation was won by
hundreds of thousands of people who refused to leave the streets. The Philippine
people-power revolution in turn inspired the slowly rebuilding movement in South
Korea. Less than a month after the outbreak of the people-power revolution, the
Cardinal and his Bishops in Seoul began talking about the people of South Korea
having learned a lesson. Within a year, the military dictatorship was overthrown.
The glorious victory of the Minjung movement centers around a massive outpouring
of popular protest beginning on June 10, 1987. For more than ten days, hundreds
of thousands of people mobilized in the streets demanding direct presidential
elections. When Kwangju native Yi Han Yol was killed in a student protest near
Yonsei University, more than one million people gathered to bury him. As in the
Philippines, massive occupation of public space compelled the military to relentóin
this case by agreeing to hold direct elections for president. In July and August,
thousands of strikes involving millions of workers broke out. Although major concessions
had been granted by the government, the struggle continued.
All through Asia, people';s movements for democracy and human rights appeared:
an end to martial law was won in Taiwan; in Myanmar (Burma) a popular movement
exploded in March 1988, when students and ethnic minorities took to the streets
of Rangoon (much as had happened in Kwangju). Despite horrific repression, the
movement compelled President Ne Win to step down after 26 years of rule. In August,
five days of new student-led protests forced his replacement to resign. A general
strike committee representing workers, writers, monks and students coordinated
the nationwide movement for multiparty democracy, but the military shot down thousands
more peopleóbringing to 10,000 the number of people it killed that year.
Arresting thousands more, including over 100 elected representatives, the Burmese
military government continues to use an iron fist to remain in power.
The next year, student activists in China activated a broad public cry for democracy,
only to be shot down at Tiananmen Square and hunted for years afterward. Even
within the halls of communism, however, as the chain reaction of revolts against
military dictatorships continued, a member of the Politburo of Vietnam, General
Tram Do, publicly asked for multi-party democracy in Vietnam in 1989, an unprecedented
event. The next country to experience an explosion was Thailand, when 20 days
of hunger strike by a leading opposition politician brought hundreds of thousands
of people into the streets in May 1992. Dozens were killed when the military suppressed
street demonstrations, and because of this brutality, General Suchinda Krapayoon
was forced to step down. In 1998 in Indonesia, students called for a people-power
revolutionî and were able successfully to overthrow Suharto. Interviews
conducted by an American correspondent at the universities in Indonesia determined
that the people-power slogan was adopted from the Philippines, as was the tactical
innovation of the occupation of public space. Students successfully surged into
the parliament building and were able to compel a resolution of the conflict only
by the withdrawal of Sukarno.
The relationship of these revolts to each other is an understudied dimension of
these movements. Elsewhere I have developed the concept of the eros effect to
explain the rapid spread of revolutionary aspirations and actions. By the eros
effect, I mean events like the spontaneous chain reaction of uprisings and the
massive occupation of public spaceóboth of which are examples of the sudden
entry into history of millions of ordinary people who act in a unified fashion,
intuitively believing that they can change the direction of their society. In
moments of the eros effect, universal interests become generalized at the same
time as the dominant values of society (national chauvinism, hierarchy, domination,
regionalism, possessiveness, etc.) are negated. This is what I referred to as
the organic solidarity of participants in the Kwangju Commune. The eros effect
is not simply an act of mind, nor can it simply be willed by the conscious elementî
(or revolutionary party). Rather it involves popular revolutionary movements emerging
as forces in their own right as thousands of ordinary people take history into
their own hands.
By developing the concept of the eros effect, I seek to rescue the revolutionary
value of spontaneous actions of millions of ordinary people from the scorn of
theorists. I also seek to stimulate a reevaluation of the unconscious and emotions,
to overturn their portrayal as being linked to reaction rather than to revolution.
My notion of the eros effect seeks to bring emotions into the realm of positive
revolutionary resources whose mobilization can result in significant social transformation.
As Marcuse said, nature is an ally in the revolutionary process, referring not
only to external nature, to nature out there in the world, but to internal nature,
to human nature. Humans have an instinctual need for freedomósomething
that we grasp intuitively, and it was this instinctual need that was sublimated
into a collective phenomenon during the Kwangju uprising.
Is the eros effect an analytical construction or a tactic for a better world?
It is certainly the former; I believe it is also the latter. The sudden emergence
of people massively occupying public space; the spread of the revolt from one
city to another and throughout the countryside; the intuitive identification with
each other of hundreds of thousands of people and their simultaneous belief in
the power of their actions; the suspension of normal values like regionalism,
competitive business practices, criminal behavior, and acquisitiveness: these
are dimensions of the eros effect in Kwangju. After World Way 2, the sudden and
unexpected appearance of massive contestation of power has become a significant
tactic in the arsenal of popular movements.
Future Prospects
If the eros effect can be activated, I see at least two possibilities for how
this dynamic be crafted in practical situations. When the Zapatistas used the
internet to call for demonstrations against neoliberalism during the summer of
1999--and activists in several cities responded, including in London which experienced
its largest riot in at least a decade--clearly they were seeking internationally
synchronized popular uprisings. For this method to succeed, the group(s) initiating
the call must be a socially legitimate leadership in the hearts of many people
and must wisely wield hegemonic power. Most significantly, the spark lit by organized
forces of the movement must land in flammable territory. Besides the Zapatistas,
Kwangju might increasingly play such an international role. Like the Battleship
Potemkin, Kwangju';s actions might again signal the time for uprisingóand
not only in Korea. In 1972, the Vietnamese revolution meticulously prepared an
internationally synchronized offensive. After convening a Paris conference to
coordinate the action calendars of anti-war movements in over 80 countries, the
Vietnamese launched a military offensive in April 1972, during which they declared
the existence of a Provisional Revolutionary Government.
Secondly, confrontations with the principal instruments of global corporate domination
(the IMF and World Bank meetings in Berlin in 1988, Clinton's recent visit to
Athens, anti-WTO protests in Seattle in 1999 and the more recent protests against
the IMF and World Bank in Washington DC) help to create a global dynamic of escalating
confrontation that spreads throughout the world like a wave in a stadium. Abetted
by global institutions of capital (the IMF, World Bank and WTO), indigenous sectors
of the populationóboth in East Asia and in the USA--use force when persuasion
fails to maintain the regime of corporate exploitation and cultural hegemony.
When people confront such dictatorial tendencies in one country, they intuitively
mobilize movements, creating a global dynamic of solidarity and struggle.
Globalization as know it has been built on the backs of the world';s working
poor. The concentration of greater quantities of capital is based on the increasing
misery of hundreds of millions of people at the periphery of the world system.
As the global tendencies of the world system intensify in their impact on millions
of peoples'; everyday lives, internationally coordinated opposition is more
and more a necessity. For the eros effect to be activated, thousands and then
millions of people who comprise civil society need to act--to negate their existing
daily routines and break free of ingrained patterns. This process is not simply
enacted by the will power of a small groupóalthough it may be sparked by
one. Like falling in love, enacting the eros effect is a complex process. It appears
that leaderless situations often produce the eros effect. If the eros effect were
continually activated, we would have passed from the realm of what Marx called
prehistory, to the realm of real human history in which human beings for the first
time are able to determine for themselves the type of society in which they wish
to live.
To catch a glimpse of this free society we need to look no further than the Kwangju
People';s Uprising, for during the brutal reality of May 1980 the fragrant
flower of freedom blossomed. The example set by the people of Kwangju in their
spontaneous capacity for self-government and the organic solidarity of the population
may well be their most important legacy. Alongside these indications of the unrealized
potential of human beings today, there were concrete gainsóthe overthrow
of the military dictatorship and the inspiration of other democratic movementsóand
specific lessons taught through the blood and sacrifices of so manyóthe
need for strategic organization and the centrality of working people to fundamental
change. Today, twenty years later, the uprising continues to provide all of us
with a palpable feeling for the dignity of human beings and the necessity of intensifying
the struggle for freedom.
* Prepared for the Global Symposium on the 20th Anniversary of the Kwangju Uprising,
Democracy and Human Rights in the New Millennium, Chonnam National University,
Kwangju Korea, May 15-17, 2000.
Although the American media did carry some reports at the time, the Kwangju Commune
and the massacres were never fully analyzed, nor do many Americans know about
it. It has been buried beneath a stream of reports on the Korean economic miracle.î
US complicity in the massacre is embodied in the man who is today our United Nations
ambassador--Richard Holbrooke. Although he has claimed that the Americans didn';t
know what was going on,î Holbrooke was the leader of the US team that approved
the release of the South Korean troops from the DMZ to crush the Kwangju uprising.
In the midst of negotiations for a peaceful settlement in Kwangju, the citizens';
councils asked the US to mediate: Holbrooke and Co. refused. Rather he promised
the Korean government that the US would not publicly contestî their version
of whatever events transpired. After hundreds had been killed, Holbrooke stepped
up US economic and diplomatic ties to the new military government, and he personally
profited by serving as a key adviser to Hyundai in the 1980s. Apparently Holbrooke';s
complicity in hundreds of murders earned him a promotion to UN ambassador.
Lee Jae-eui, Kwangju Diary: Beyond Death, Beyond the Darkness of the Age (UCLA
Asian Pacific Monograph Series, 1999). This is the single best source in English
and I highly recommend it. It can be ordered from Mr. Leslie Evans, 11372B Bunche
Hall, UCLA, Los Angeles, CA 90095-1487).
Other English language sources I have relied on in my research include a collection
of foreign journalists'; accounts, Kwangju in the Eyes of the World (Kwangju
Citizens'; Solidarity, 1997). The above quote is from an article by Bradley
Martin, p. 94. Also helpful was The May 18 Kwangju Democratic Uprising (The 5.18
History Compilation Committee of Kwangju City, 1999). Arnold A. Peterson';s
essay, 5:18 The Kwangju Incidentî is contained in a Korean language book.
Last but not least, I have benefited greatly from the May 18 Institute';s
recent translation of documents and personal testimonies (hereafter referred to
in my footnotes as Documents). These are available in digital format. In some
cases, I have tried to make the translations flow more easily.
See my book (co-authored with R. George Kirkpatrick) Introduction to Critical
Sociology (New York: Irvington Publishers, 1987) for more discussion.
Sanjeewa Liyanage, Kwangju, The Flame of People';s Power,î International
Youth Net, Volume 1, 1996, p. 29.
Lee Jae-eui, p. 41.
The May 18thÖp. 121.
Lee, p. 46.
Documents, p. 79.
The May 18th, p. 127.
Documents, p. 113.
Lee, p. 64.
The May 18th, p. 138.
The firing began at 1:00 sharp on the afternoon of the 21st, and at 2:30, weapons
and ammunition was commandeered from the Sampo Branch office of Naju police station,
and police boxes at Youngkwang, Keumsung, and Suan. The first groups of armed
protesters began firing back at 2:20. Arnold Peterson relates that At about 2:00
p.m. some of the citizens captured the military arsenal in the town of Hwa Soon,
just south of Kwangju. From that time on many of the citizen fighters carried
guns.î Peterson, p. 44.
The May 18th, p. 143.
Lee, p. 77.
The May 18 Kwangju Democratic Uprising, p. 164; Documents, p. 72.
Documents, p. 105.
Documents, p. 61.
Lee, p. 137.
In Documents, p. 132, the number 719 was used to count the number of struggles.
Documents, p. 43.
Peterson, p. 49.
See Cummings, Introductionî to Lee.
This incident is described in Documents, pp. 9-10.
Lee (p. 107) says there were 15 representatives.
Peterson, p. 44.
Lee, p. 107.
Fighters'; Bulletin No. 5, May 23, Documents, p. 71.
Chun Yong Ho quoted in Kwangju in the Eyes of the World, p. 88.
Park Song Hyon summarized Yun';s strategy in Kwangju in the Eyes of the
World, p. 88.
Interview with Chun Yon Ho, November 29, 1999.
Documents, p. 31.
Documents, p. 68.
See Lee';s analysis as well as the insightful criticisms written two years after
the uprising by the Kwangju Citizens'; Movement for Democracy, p. 133 Documents.
In my view, such organization needs to be decentralized for many reasons, chief
among them being the ease with which centralized organizations are decapitated.
For more discussion, see chapter 5 of The Imagination of the New Left.
Lee, p. 72.
Peterson, p. 47.
See Documents, pp. 11-12.
The May18th, pp. 174-5.
Documents, p. 113.
Documents, p. 119.
Documents, p. 127.
May 23 Fighters'; Bulletin, Documents, p. 71.
Documents, p. 58.
Lee p. 105.
Documents and Testimonies, p. 67.
Lee Jae-eui, The Seventeen Years of Struggle to Bring the Truth of the Kwangju
Massacre to Light, in Kwangju in the Eyes of the World, p. 143.
Although the government claims far fewer, it appears some 700 people were killed.
See Bruce Cummings, Introduction, in Lee.
The Thai Interior Ministry claims 44 dead, 38 disappeared, 11 disabled and over
500 wounded. Human rights activists have noted that hundreds were killed or disappeared.
No Thai government has ever been held responsible for massacres of pro-democracy
demonstrators in 1973, 1976 or 1992.
See The Imagination of the New Left: A Global Analysis of 1968 (Seoul: E-who Press,
1999) and The Subversion of Politics: European Autonomous Social Movements and
the Decolonization of Everyday Life (Seoul: E-who, forthcoming).
With the psychic energy and swings in emotions of crowds, a mixture of sentiments
simultaneously co-exist. While many sacrificed their lives, the survivors have
many opportunities to quit. What Marcuse called a psychic Thermidor,î an
internally conditioned process of self-defeating behavior within revolutionary
movements, may have been operative in Kwangju. Do we see this in the release of
the 45 riot police captured in May 18 at Sansu-tong Junction? Almost certainly
the paratroopers'; rampage after the release of the police would not have
happened, but would the hostages have made good bargaining chips to free some
of the prisoners being tortured? Other indications of a psychic Thermidor can
be found. On May 23, thousands of carbines, M-16';s and pistols were abandoned.
That same night Kim Ch';ang-gil and some SAC members permitted an explosives
expert, in reality a military agent, to remove all the detonators from the arsenal
of dynamite, rendering it all useless. Would the military have moved in so brutally
if they had known they might have lost some tanks?