South Korea is, according to many observers, a deeply racist society. âItâs not,â as Kanika Copeland, a Black woman who teaches at Dongguk University in Seoul, puts it, âthe you-donât-deserve-to-live racism that exists in the US,â but it is nonetheless âvery racistâ (Volodzko 2017). Importantly, it is not just outsiders who feel this way. Se-Woong Koo, the co-founder and publisher of Korea ExposĂ©, took his fellow Koreans to task in an opinion column published in the New York Times (2018). His column was a response to the virulent reaction toward a small group of Yemini refugeesâabout 550âwho had arrived on the South Korean island of Jeju and applied for asylum beginning in early 2018. Noting that more than 500,000 South Koreans signed a petition to turn away these refugees and that many had staged an anti-immigrant and ârefugee-bashingâ demonstration, Koo wrote,
South Korea has long been intolerant of outsiders, but the outrage triggered by this small number of Yemenis arriving on our shores shows how deep xenophobia runs here. For all of South Koreaâs success as a democracy and as a thriving economy, compassion and humanitarian instincts are in short supply.
Koo also pointed out previous incidents of racial harassment, much of which has been specifically targeted against people with darker skin. More significantly, in December 2018, a large consortium of Korean NGOs (2018)1 submitted a report (hereafter, the Alternative NGO Report) to the UN Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD).2 The consortium not only condemned the South Korean government for its âexcessive emphasisâ on racial and cultural âonenessâ but also condemned it for cultivating and sustaining a system of state racism (6, 7), which suggests that racism is baked into South Koreaâs institutional core.
The existence of deep-seated, pervasive, and institutionalized racism in South Korean society is hardly in serious dispute, at least among informed observers. Nor is the source of that racism: Ever since its inception as a country in 1948 (and even before), Korean leaders have consistently and often stridently emphasized a national identity based on the demarcation and valorization of the Korean âraceâ3 as not only distinct from all other races and ethnicities, but also as racially pure. The motivation for this effort is not difficult to discern and, from a comparative historical perspective, is utterly unremarkable. To wit, in the era of the modern state, it reflects the desire to construct a singularly dominant national identity, which is used, in part, to instill a deep, collective commitment to the state among those who share or, more accurately, are allowed to share that identity. Conversely, it is used to ascribe âothernessâ as a way to legitimize discriminatory or unequal treatment of marginalized populations. As Will Kymlicka (2007) writes, âVirtually every Western democracy has pursued this ideal of national homogeneity at one point or another, as have virtually all post-communist and post-colonial states.â Significantly, though, Kymlicka singled out South Korea as one of the few countries in the worldâalong with Iceland, Portugal, and North Koreaâthat has not had to actively construct the âideal of national homogeneity.â The reason, Kymlicka matter-of-factly asserts, is simply that Korea (South and North) is âhistorically mono-national.â4
The presumption that South Korea has always been homogeneous was, for a long time (including up to the present), widely shared and taken for granted. Beginning in the mid-2000s, however, a number of scholars have effectively and thoroughly debunked the presumption of natural or organic homogeneity in Korea (Shin 2006; N.Y. Kim 2008; and C.S. Kim 2011). Choong Soon Kim (2011) provides a particularly straightforward assessment. âThe evidence from Korean [âŠ] history, and contemporary demographics,â5 she writes, âsuggests that the conventional view of Korea as a racially and culturally homogeneous society may have no foundation at allâ (xiv). In fact, Kim also noted that, for centuries, the peninsula has been filled with the descendants of immigrants from throughout Asia and other regions, including the Han Chinese, Mongolians, Manchurians, Vietnamese (or immigrants from the country now known as Vietnam), Jurchens, Khitans, Japanese, Arabs, and various other groups from South and Southeast Asia. Altogether, according to Kim, almost 12 million of South Koreaâs 46 million people (based on the 2000 census)âor more than one-quarter of the total populationâwere and are not of âpure Korean blood.â In a very important sense, though, the historical and empirical fact of ethnic diversity, or of âimpureâ or âmixed blood,â on the Korean peninsula is irrelevant. What matters is what people believe and accept as the truth, which, to repeat, is the idea of racial and cultural oneness or of pure blood. And, it is pretty clear that Koreans, for the most part and at least until very recently, have believed exactly that. In a 2000 survey conducted by Gi-Wook Shin and Paul Yunsik Chang (2004), for example, fully 93 percent of South Korean respondents said they âagreeâ or âstrongly agreeâ with the statement, âOur nation has a single bloodlineâ (123).
The near-unanimous belief in a single bloodline among South Koreans is testament to the effectiveness of the stateâs unremitting effortsâover more than half a century and spanning multiple political regimes (from authoritarian to democratic; from deeply conservative to progressive)âto construct and maintain the âideal of national homogeneity.â Crucially, the ideal of national homogeneity has had, and continues to have, concrete and powerful practical consequences in South Korea. This is most clearly seen in the countryâs legalâinstitutional system on nationality and immigration, which, as the Alternative NGO Report put it, is unmistakably âbased on principles of âdistinction and exclusionâ and âselective assimilationââ (2018, 7). These principles have, for practically the entirety of South Koreaâs short history, led to and been clearly reflected in a severely discriminatory regime that has systematically restricted, ignored, or subverted the civil, labor, and human rights of racial, ethnic, and other minorities living in South Korea. Conversely, it has created the basis for âspecial treatmentâ of those minority groups that ostensibly share a pure Korean bloodline, i.e., ethnic Koreans who emigrated from Korea one or more generations ago. Since the 1990s, the minority groups that have received the most attention, in media and academia, are principally labor migrants and marriage immigrants from China (including ethnic Koreans, typically referred to as Joseonjok),6 Central Asia (especially Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan), and a range of South and Southeast Asian countries: Vietnam, Indonesia, Thailand, the Philippines, Cambodia, Sri Lanka, and Bangladesh, among others. An examination of these minority groups is certainly important and constitutes a major part of this book. However, the original and longest suffering victims or targets of South Koreaâs racist and discriminatory regime were multiracial persons born in South Korea, the so-called Amerasians (a term that I will generally eschew in favor of âmultiracial Koreansâ). This latter group is often overlooked but their experiences and treatment, for reasons that will be explained later, should and even must be a central element of any discussion of racism and discrimination in South Korea, as well as of understanding the prospects for multiculturalism. Accordingly, the Amerasian or the first multiracial Korean community will be the empirical focus of the next chapter.
Box 1.1 What is multiculturalism?
âMulticulturalismâ is a term that generates a lot of heated discussion. Whole books and long, dense articles have been written about the various meanings, contradictions, and implications of the term itself (see âFurther Readingâ later). In more recent years, moreover, the real-world practice of âmulticulturalismâ (as manifested in public policies meant to address directly or indirectly ethnocultural and racial diversity within the borders of a single country) has been weighted down with a ton of political baggage as many societies, Western European ones in particular, have experienced an intense âmulticulturalism backlash.â It is also important to emphasize, as Joppke and Lukes (1999a) assert, that âthere is no MC [multiculturalism] tout court; there are only specific, context-dependent multicultural problĂ©matiquesâ (16). This frequently cited statement, most simply, means that multiculturism plays out differently in different societies, in part because âthere is great diversity in the empirical conditions of different social settingsâ (Tiryakian 2003, 28). To get a concrete sense of this, consider the United States and South Korea. The US has a centuries-old history of visible ethnic and racial diversity and a nationality regime based on jus soli (citizenship based on place of birth). South Korea has only a decades-old recent history of visible ethnic and racial diversity and a nationality regime based on jus sanguinis (citizenship based on blood). The US also has a still powerful legacy of racism that was originally used to justify a system of slavery, while South Korea does not. The list could go on for quite some time, but the key point is this: With just a few salient differences, it is not hard to imagine that the US and South Korea would follow very different paths when it comes to the institutional treatment of ethnocultural minority groups; more to the point, we should not expect âmulticulturalismâ to look the same in the two countries.
It is important, though, to avoid concluding that, because there is no single, unqualified multiculturalism, that âmulticulturalismâ has no common elements from one society to the next. From a social science perspective, this would be quite problematic, since it would be impossible to develop an explanation for multiculturalism if it is mostly and even completely different everywhere it exists. In this view, the âroad to multiculturalismâ could be a road to anywhere (or nowhere).
Multiculturalism as a discourse
So, what are the common elements? Tiryakian (2003) identifies one: âAt a high level of generality, MC is a normative critique of the institutional arrangements of the public sphere that are seen as injuring or depriving a cultural minority of its rightsâ (28). To a large extent, this is multiculturalism as a discourse, although the precise content of that discourse may vary significantly around the world and across time (both among countries and within countries). It is worth noting, too, that this element of multiculturalism presupposes the existence of a majority ethnie (or ethnocultural group) and at least one minority ethnocultural group. Today, the descriptive term âmulticulturalâ is used to denote the empirical fact that multiple and distinct ethnocultural groups occupy a single country (âdiversityââoften with a qualifying adjective such as âracial,â âethnic,â or âculturalââis a synonymous term).
Multiculturalism as state or public policy
These leads to second common element, which can be broadly labeled, âmulticulturalism as state policyâ (Tiryakian 2003). As a state policy, multiculturalism has two integrally related parts. The first is âofficialâ recognition that minority ethnocultural groups do, in fact, exist. This may seem unimportant, but in some societiesâSouth Korea is one particularly relevant exampleâthe existence of ethnic, racial, or cultural minority groups was, for a long time, essentially denied. Second, as state policy, multiculturalism implies an official effort to accommodate, from a legalâinstitutional perspective, ethnocultural or other types of minority groups who may be permanent or temporary residents, citizens or non-citizens. These accommodations can vary widely from reducing discrimination and barriers to inclusion in the public and private spheres, to proactively protecting and promoting the interests of ethnocultural groups (e.g., affirmative action), to ensuring that the norms and values of the dominant ethnie do not serve as the national standard for all citizens.
Multiculturalism and democracy
Additionally, it important to note that, while issues related to the relationship between and among different ethnocultural groups have existed as long as such groups have existed, âmulticulturalismâ as a discourse and state policy is intimately connected to the development of liberal democracy. Consider, on this point, how Will Kymlicka (2010), who is widely considered a doyen in the field of multiculturalism studies, defined multiculturalism. âIn my view,â he writes, âmulticulturalism is first and foremost about developing new models of democratic citizenship, grounded in human rights ideals, to replace earlier uncivil and undemocratic relations of hierarchy and exclusionâ (emphasis added; n.p.) Kymlicka is not alone; most scholars agree that, while the principles of multiculturalism can conflict with or even contradict principles embedded in liberal democracy, the two concepts have become largely inseparable. The reason, to put it in the simplest way, is clear: The pursuit of âminority rightsâ requires political institutions, such as an independent judiciary, that enables marginalized, subordinated, or oppressed groups to have their voices heard and their basic rights protected. In illiberal political systems, minority groups are typically repressed. (I provide further discussion on the importance of the democratic context later in this chapter.)
Multiculturalism as a process
Finally, it is vital to understand that multiculturalism, whether as a discourse or state policy, should not be viewed as an eitherâor condition. Instead, it must be seen as an ongoing process, which not only unfolds over time, but which also ofte...