Читать книгу Korea: The Impossible Country - Daniel Tudor - Страница 14

Chapter 3

Confucianism

Confucianism is the last of the three main ancient philosophical and religious influences on Korean society. However, while the last two established a syncretic relationship with each other, Confucianism at its peak allowed little room for competing traditions—despite having a certain complementariness with both of the other traditions. A form of Confucianism was the state ideology during the Joseon dynasty (1392–1910), and it left profound traces on Korean society in its hierarchicalism, age and gender bias, reverence for parents, and emphasis on education.

What is Confucianism?

Confucianism is not a religion but rather a system of moral philosophy that originated in China in the teachings of Kong Fuzi (558–471 BCE), a thinker known in the West as Confucius. It has exerted considerable influence over not just China but also Korea, Japan, Vietnam, and other East Asian states. At its heart is a belief that humans are improvable through cultivation and moral action, and that collectively, a harmonious society can be created when all members fulfill certain obligations.

There are several key obligations. The first is ren, the necessity to treat others within the community with humanity. In its essence, it is similar to the “golden rule” of doing as you would be done by. Ren has important implications for leaders. If a leader fails to show ren, for instance by treating his subjects brutally, he loses his mandate to govern them and may be disobeyed. If he behaves benevolently, then subjects are to accept his word as the law.

Then there is li, the observation of customs, proper etiquette, and the need to act in accordance with society’s set of morals. Through the observance of social rituals—such as the correct way to mourn the dead, or even drink tea—people learn to show respect for each other and behave in socially harmonious ways. In this sense, the rationale for li is comparable to William of Wykeham’s maxim, “Manners maketh man.” However, li also involves a sort of hierarchy: in Confucianism, those who master li are considered to be especially wise. The ideal society is ruled by such a person, who also appoints fellow wise men as his advisors and administrators. This concept gave rise to the practice of national examinations, which were held to determine who would join the civil service in China, from 605 CE until 1911. The ruler who mastered li was, in theory, reminiscent of Socrates’ rule by Philosopher Kings, who would likewise rule society in a wise and just fashion.

Loyalty is held as essential—to one’s family, one’s husband or wife, one’s king, and one’s friends. Family loyalty is most important of all: the concept of filial piety, or xiao, commands children to respect and honor their parents and ancestors above all others. There was no higher virtue in Confucian-influenced cultures than this. Ancestors were commemorated in rituals; parental wishes, including their choice of their child’s occupation or marriage partner, were to be fulfilled without complaint; and those who committed crimes against their parents were held by society to be particularly reprehensible and subjected to greater punishment.

In Confucianism, relationships between people have certain rules. There are five relationships in all: those between ruler and subject, father and son, older and younger, husband and wife, and two friends of similar status. The last relationship is the only one in which equality prevails. In all of the others, the former party is superior, and the latter inferior. The superior partner should act with a duty of responsibility and benevolence to the lower, who should respond in turn with loyalty and obedience. Confucians believed that a society run on these lines would be harmonious and orderly.

Confucianism in Korea

Koreans were first exposed to Confucian thought during the Lelang Commandery era, and like Buddhism, its influence began to grow during the Three Kingdoms period. The elites of Goguryeo, Shilla, and Baekje all studied Chinese classics; Confucian texts were an important part of such an education. At the time, Buddhism and Confucianism were not mutually exclusive: the former dealt with the metaphysical, and the latter with one’s conduct in the temporal realm, in relation to other members of society. A good scholar was expected to have a solid understanding of both. Shilla, a Buddhist state, established a Confucian college in 682.

During the Koryo Dynasty (918–1392), the role of Confucianism grew. King Gwangjeong (r. 949–975) introduced the national civil service examination, and King Songjeong (r. 981–997) established Gukgajam, a Confucian school, as the highest educational institution in the land. Again though, its increased role did not encroach on Buddhism. The established state religion continued to grow, as the creation of the Tripitaka Koreana, and the increasing power of the monasteries, would attest.

Buddhism and Confucianism in fact share a certain degree of commonality. Both belief systems assign importance to helping others and acting selflessly. Self-improvement is also a critical theme or ethic in both traditions. The two philosophies intermingled in popular practice long before the Joseon period. This blending can be seen in the creation of the Hwarang, an elite group of young fighters from the Shilla dynasty that existed from the sixth to the tenth centuries.

The Hwarang were teenage boys of good moral character drawn mainly from the aristocracy. They were trained in horsemanship, archery, martial arts, and intellectual disciplines and indoctrinated with an ethical code based on both Buddhism and Confucianism. Though they were considered a Buddhist fighting force, and were given their moral code by a Buddhist monk named Wongwang, the first two instructions the monk gave them as part of that code were to “be loyal to your Lord” and “love and respect your parents and teachers.” Nothing could be more Confucian than instructions like these.

It was not until the growth of neo-Confucianism in the late Koryo period that Buddhism and Confucianism fell into conflict. Neo-Confucianism was a philosophical movement most closely associated with Chinese thinker Zhu Xi (1130–1200). It attached even greater importance to li and also to education, since neo-Confucian philosophers believed that all things could be understood via the application of reason, and that it was man’s duty to work to attain such understanding.

Zhu was a heavy reader of Buddhist texts, and argued for an ultimate state of knowledge in which there are no bounds between the thinker, and other people and things. This “breakthrough to integral comprehension” is reminiscent of the kind of oneness of understanding pursued by Buddhists. However, Zhu was also a rationalistic and non-spiritual thinker, and was of the ultimate opinion that Buddhism was vacuous and deluding. He and his followers sought to reduce the influence of Buddhism on society. Whereas the old Confucianism could accommodate Buddhism, neo-Confucianism would not.

After An Hyang, a Korean scholar, read one of Zhu’s works in 1286 and was inspired to transcribe it and bring it back from China to his own country, neo-Confucianism began to influence intellectuals in Korea. Due to the presence of Confucian academies, there was a ready-made scholarly class who would have been receptive to his ideas. Furthermore, the excessive power and corrupt behavior of the monasteries meant Zhu’s anti-Buddhist approach arrived at the right time.

Though both the common people and most of the elite continued to follow Buddhism, the religion had some powerful opponents. Jeong Do-jeon (died 1398), the closest advisor to Yi Seong-gye (later King Taejo, the founder of the Joseon dynasty following his overthrow of Koryo), was the most notable of these. When Koryo fell and Yi established the new regime in 1392, Jeong—who some consider to have been the real leader in all but name—was given many administrative portfolios including education, taxation policy, diplomacy, and defense. He established a highly centralized bureaucracy, moved Korea’s capital from the city of Kaesong to Seoul, and replaced Buddhism with neo-Confucianism as official state ideology.

He set about reordering Korean society on neo-Confucian lines. This meant that the upper class would be composed of bureaucrats—those who passed the civil service examination. Beneath them, there was to be a professional class, and then a class of ordinary laborers. Formerly powerful Buddhist monks did not even make it into the lower class: along with musicians, prostitutes, and other people he considered socially harmful, monks became part of the cheonmin, an outcast group who were forced to live away from mainstream society and were blocked from social advancement through measures such the inability to register for the civil service examination.

Several monarchs throughout the early Joseon period retained their Buddhism: Taejo himself, and King Sejong the Great (r. 1418–1450), for example, were both Buddhists and believed that there was no contradiction between being guided by Confucianism in one’s thinking on social issues, and by Buddhism on the metaphysical. They were, however, constrained by powerful civil servants, who followed neo-Confucianism rather than the more accommodating form of Confucianism that had existed in Korea before Zhu Xi’s influence began.

Shamanists also came under attack from the neo-Confucians; they too were relegated to cheonmin status. However, both the musok-in and the Buddhist monk remained in demand. Neo-Confucianism was non-spiritual, and naturally, the people required an outlet for their metaphysical questions and troubles. Furthermore, in the case of Musok, its use of colorful ceremonies full of music, dance, and emotional displays allowed people a sense of joy that neo-Confucianism, with its stifling hierarchicalism and emphasis on duty, could not. Throughout the Joseon era, many members of both the nobility and the common classes turned to both Buddhism and shamanism; Queen Min, in the late nineteenth century, was a devout Buddhist, and also employed two musok-in as advisors. According to Homer B. Hulbert, a nineteenth century American missionary to Korea, “The all-round Korean will be a Confucian in society, a Buddhist when he philosophizes, and a spirit worshipper when he is in trouble.”

Aspects of Confucianism in Korea

As neo-Confucianism was the state ideology of the Joseon dynasty—a regime that lasted until 1910—it had many years in which to influence a variety of areas of human interaction in Korea. Perhaps its most powerful effect on Korean culture is to be found in the sense of hierarchy that pervades the five Confucian relationships that can exist between people.

Regarding the relationship between ruler and subject, the latter had to show absolute loyalty. The ruler, though, could expect to be removed if he did not respond with benevolence. This argument was used by pro-coup neo-Confucianists to justify Yi Seong-gye’s overthrow of the Koryo Dynasty, which Joseon’s founders believed was failing the people. The trading of benevolence in return for loyalty is still a factor in Korean offices: whistleblowing is rare, as it goes against the employee’s obligation to his superior. A typical Korean boss is also more paternalistic than one from a non-Confucian society. He will take greater interest in the personal lives of his staff, and feel the need to treat them to lunch or dinner with regularity.

Within the home, the father held authority: his wife and children were expected to do as he commanded, and in return, he was to be a just ruler and provider. Males in this neo-Confucian order were privileged over females, to the extent that a woman who had given birth was referred to simply as “X’s mother.” In a house where the father had died, the firstborn son rather than the mother became the new head or master. This was a consequence of the “three obediences” of the later Joseon period: daughters were obedient to their fathers, wives to their husbands, and widows to their sons. Women were denied all inheritance rights (prior to the Joseon era, women had equal right to inherit property, as well as noble titles), and restricted from access to education. Books distributed by the government ordered women to refrain from being agnyeo (immoral women), by staying out of public affairs. This latter commandment was part of naewaebeop, a set of rules delineating the “internal” sphere from the “external.” The woman’s realm was considered to be the former, and thus her duty was to maintain a good household and cover her face on the rare occasions she went out in public. Covering the face became standard practice among upper-class women in the seventeenth century and among most Korean women by the nineteenth century.

Shin Saimdang, who lived in the sixteenth century and was a devoted mother to her son Yulgok (a leading Confucian scholar and government official), is still seen by some today as an ideal Confucian woman: in 2007, the Bank of Korea chose to place her portrait on the 50,000 won bill—the highest value bank note—due to her “mothering skills and filial piety,” according to a Los Angeles Times article. (Yulgok himself appears on the 5,000 won bill, and another Confucian thinker, Toegye, features on the 1,000 won bill.) A bank official referred to her as "the best example of motherhood in Korean history.” More than twelve Korean feminist groups protested, arguing that it reinforced stereotypes of women as subservient and worthy of recognition only for their ability to serve their children or husbands. If Korea can legitimately be accused of sexism, then Confucianism is the culprit.

How Old Are You?

The relationship between older and younger is also of great importance. When two people meet for the first time in Korea, one of the first questions that will be asked is, “How old are you?” Once it has been determined who is older, the younger person will be expected to act with a degree of deference. Special titles emphasize this hierarchy: a younger man will call an older male friend Hyung, and a younger woman will call an older female friend Eonni. In the case of a friendship between people of different sexes, an older man will be Oppa, and an older woman Nuna. The younger person in the relationship will simply be called Dongsaeng.

Traditionally, if a young man went out to eat and drink with an older man, he would be expected as a matter of courtesy to turn his head away when taking a sip from his glass. He would listen attentively to (and agree with) whatever the older man said, regardless of his true opinions. Today, such behavior may seem excessively deferential, as the power of Confucianism is in fact weakening, to some extent. Still, the young owe the old a certain amount of respect—and in return, the oldest person at the table pays for the meal.

Language reflects the age hierarchy in other ways. Korean has different levels of speech, based on the degree of respect required for different situations. Banmal, the most basic, exists for friends and social equals. After banmal, there are then six degrees of honorific speech, classified as jondaemal. In the most commonly-heard form of jondaemal, haeyoche, sentences ending with verbs conclude with the suffix haeyo. Another form, haerache, ends with handa and is used a great deal in newspapers and books. Hapsyoche is more deferential and ends in hamnida; this is typically used with customers, and on television news programs. With one’s Hyung, one may use haeyo endings or perhaps even banmal these days; with an elderly, respected person, hamnida may be necessary. The chairman of one’s company would probably require “hamnida” as well. With children speaking to parents, haeyo is standard, though there are many these days who use banmal when talking to their mother or father.

Family and Ancestry

Confucianism holds family bonds to be the most important of all. Not only are one’s living relatives deserving of respect, but a sense of duty and devotion also exists for deceased family members. Jesa, a ceremony to commemorate a departed relative on the anniversary of their death, and charye, a special type of jesa that takes place on the two national holidays of Chuseok and Lunar New Year, are held to remind people of the importance of their family and lineage. These are Confucian rites in which food is offered at a shrine set up for the occasion, and family members bow in front of it. Traditional jesa foods include rice cakes known as songpyeon, which are offered alongside an elaborate spread of vegetables, fish, and soup dishes. There is room for variation, though, as it is also customary to lay out the favorite dish of the deceased person. In 2011, photographs of a jesa table containing pizza were run by the national press; when the family was asked why they laid out such a non-traditional food, their response was simply, “Our father liked pizza.”

Jesa suggests to many that Koreans practice ancestor worship or that Confucianism is a religion with special rites of its own. Indeed, some early Korean Christians were martyred for refusing to perform it. These days, some Christians do not do jesa, and Protestants may even follow their own “jesa replacement” ceremony, chudo yebae. However, Zhu Xi did not believe that the souls of the dead actually exist, but rather viewed such rites as the opportunity to demonstrate respect and remember. In this way, the act of commemoration serves the purpose of upholding one’s filial piety, as well as promoting li.

To one’s ancestors, one owes respect. To one’s parents, one owes a lifelong debt. This debt can never be truly repaid, since without one’s parents one would not exist. For this reason, the debt must be acknowledged throughout one’s life, and one must strive to come as close to repaying it as one can. A child should not marry whomever he or she wants, but rather the person his or her parents approve of. The same applies to the child’s choice of studies in school and career; rather than follow one’s dreams and become an artist or a musician, for instance, one ought to select the most highly paid and stable job available in order to provide for one’s parents in their old age and create a secure environment in which to raise children—since there is also an imperative to continue the family line.

Today much of the influence of Confucianism on the parent-child relationship is being eroded. Children exert more free choice and are more likely than before to marry whom they please, and argue with their parents. Many see jesa as a burden. Furthermore, with regard to Confucian gender hierarchy, over the past generation women have gained equal access to education, as well as a dramatically increased role in public life, albeit one that is still far from equal. Traditional respect for elders is also in decline. Tourists in Seoul who have read about Korea’s Confucian culture sometimes express surprise when riding the subway and seeing an infirm old person waiting in vain for a youngster to give up a seat.

Education

It would be a mistake, however, to assume that South Korea is ever going to truly rid itself of Confucianism. Aside from its enduring influence on this country’s hierarchical corporate culture and language, Confucianism’s power can be felt in the realm of the national obsession, education. South Korea is famous for its unhealthy preoccupation with exam results and the pursuit of admission to the best universities. This is a legacy of Confucianism’s injunction to self-improvement through education, and of the civil service examination system that existed for over a thousand years. From the beginning the Joseon dynasty to the Japanese invasions of 1592–1598, passing such exams were virtually the only means of social advancement. In reality, the odds of success were heavily rigged in favor of those from families who were already of high status, but still, there remained a slight possibility for a brilliant member of a poor family to make something of himself by taking the exam. Those who passed were given yangban (aristocratic) status and land, for three generations. Passing meant glory and security, not merely for oneself but also for one’s descendents (until three successive generations failed to pass, an unlikely outcome after yangban status was acquired).

Though the yangban system was consigned to history following the royal court’s weakening and eventual surrender to Japan in 1910, the belief in the power of education and examinations as a way of improving one’s lot remained. Following the partition of Korea, and the resulting civil war of 1950–1953, South Korea briefly became a very egalitarian society. Apart from those who were closely allied with the corrupt regime of President Syngman Rhee, South Koreans were united in poverty. The country had only bombed-out infrastructure and precious few natural resources and suffered from one of the lowest GDP per capita figures on the planet.

Once again, the main way of getting ahead was via education. South Korea’s desperate state led to the realization that the only true resource the country had was the brains of its people—which, as Confucianism taught, could, and should, be improved via education. Successive governments pursued a policy of making schooling available to all, regardless of parentage, relative wealth, or gender. Until the 1980s, the way for a poor young person from a small village to improve his lot was to grasp that educational lifeline and study around the clock to gain entrance to institutions like Seoul National University, Korea University, or Yonsei University (collectively, “SKY”) and graduate with a degree in a subject like medicine. Such an individual could become a well-paid doctor in Seoul and support not just himself, but his parents, and siblings too. In a country as poor as South Korea was then, this would have been no less of an achievement than passing the civil service exam in the Joseon era.

Even today, a SKY degree is considered a ticket to the best job opportunities, the best human networks, and the best marriage prospects. SKY schools are similar in stature to the Ivy League in the United States or Oxbridge in the United Kingdom, but even more powerful: seven out of ten CEOs of the largest Korean firms are SKY graduates, as are eight out of ten appointees to the judiciary. To enter SKY, one needs to pass a grueling examination, the suneung, a day-long test given to third-year high school students. Tales of excessive pressure on suneung takers by parents and teachers are legion. It is common for those preparing for the test to wake before six a.m., spend the whole day studying, with breaks only for food, and collapse into bed at around midnight. Some parents start putting such pressure on their children years prior to the suneung period. The Gangnam area of Seoul is famous for its private institutes, which provide extra after-school instruction at exorbitant cost. The stereotypical Gangnam mother is renowned for forcing her children to attend such institutes until well after dark, no matter what their age.

Those who teach lucky SKY entrants are near the very top of the social ladder. In South Korea, professors from elite universities are easily able to enter politics or business or become public intellectuals whose voice is welcomed by the media, regardless of whether or not their comments relate to their area of specialization. Consequently, the title “Professor” is much sought-after, and cases of bribes in the hundreds of thousands of dollars being paid to secure tenure are not unheard of.

Today, the top-level civil service exam is the godeung goshi. Though the existence of better-paid jobs in business means a civil service career is relatively less attractive than it used to be, working in the higher ranks of the government still confers excellent social status and near-bulletproof job security. Open to all since its creation in 1949, the exam is a playing-field leveler for those with the fortitude to sacrifice all of their time studying to be the one student in forty-one who gains a passing grade. There are special private halls of residence called goshiwon, which are located near preparatory institutes and offer cheap accommodation and cooked meals for those preparing for the godeung goshi or other tests like the bar exam. Living near the institute saves commuting time and thus allows more time for study. Districts with large numbers of goshiwon are known as goshi-chon, “goshi villages.” Life in a goshi-chon is bleak, but success on the goshi exam brings a lifetime of stability, and respect.