In Korea, there is a concept of emotion that is deeply rooted in the Korean people's heart. It is a complex idea; emotions are long repressed and endured. Etymologically, the word han (한) comes from a Chinese character, hèn 恨, meaning hatred. In Korean culture, the word is defined by a rather complicated mix of emotions of ineffable anger, despair, loss, sorrow, resentment, regret, and hopelessness that has its root in the long traumatic memory of Japanese occupation, the Korean War, followed by the separation of the country. Los Angeles Times stated that scholars have defined this unique feeling that Korean people share from generation to generation (some even say that it is embedded in their DNA) as an “all-encompassing sense of bitterness, a mixture of angst, endurance and a yearning for revenge that tests a person’s soul, a condition marked by deep sorrow and a sense of incompleteness that can have fatal consequences.” These powerful emotions can be interpreted as the effort to remember the accumulated time and history that the ancestors lived–reasons why so many younger generations are able to live in abundance. It may also be a motivation to resolve what was done wrong, and to have a chance to appreciate what became available because of those sacrifices that happened in the past. 

Historical Connections

One derivative of the han emotion is from the loss of the country. In such global culture today, where all cultures and countries are accepted and appreciated as they are, it is unimaginable what it would have been like to have your country confiscated. Starting in 1910 and lasting for 35 years, Korea's mother country was stolen by the Japanese. This meant that every aspect of the Korean people's lives were monitored and controlled by the Japanese government. Use of the Korean language, both written and oral, was strictly forbidden, which restricted distributions of newspapers, education, and religious activities. Koreans were forced into labor, lab experiments, and discriminated against when receiving medical treatment. Japan burned over 200,000 Korean historical documents in an effort to “wipe out the historical memory of Korea.” Koreans who participated in any activities that were Korean or in demonstrating against or protesting against the Japanese control were ruthlessly tortured in the most indescribably inhumane way. Drowning them in boiling water or sexual torture with intention to cut off bloodlines to carry on with descendents were considered regular activities. The Japanese forced the captured Koreans to eat lignite coal dust, stuffed them in a nail-filled box and rolled it around, and poked the edge of the skin below the fingernails with sharp bamboo sticks. The list of the unforgivable behavior goes on. My heart aches just to even research and write about it. But Koreans didn't give in to the Japanese government's power. Many died in that small torture room inside the Governer General of Chosen (the chief administrator of the Japanese colonial government within Korea). Their reason for their misdemeanor was because the Koreans called Korea their home. 

As a generation living in such a developed and stable era, it is hard to even estimate the level of distress, pain, and exhausted life they would have led. However, from history, it is certain what they lost during those times was not just the country. It was their culture, their language, their roots, and their heritage that was taken away. It was the freedom to proudly call their home country theirs that was stolen. It was their identity that they fought with tenacity and with anger for.  

The Korean War broke out in 1950, not long after Korea finally achieved independence in 1945. Most of the lands were invaded with soldiers, gunshots, bombs exploding, and tearing apart what people used to call home. Fleeing from one location to another seeking refuge, the war scene left the civilian people unable to stay settled at home. On the way, families were separated and some people were captured and taken to join the military or the government. People lived in poverty and their homes were shattered. Friends and families were either killed or unheard from. The remnant of war still is with us today marked by the Military Demarcation Zone, which has divided the nation ever since the signing of the Korean Armistice Agreement, which put not an end but an “intermission” to the war. How people’s lives changed after the war can be seen in a personal case. My grandfather and grandmother were also refugees who fled down to the south from the north. In the war, my grandfather lost his brothers. For as long as I can remember, he spent all his life trying to search and reconnect with his brother, who he believed was alive in North Korea. It was my grandfather’s long lived han to find and connect with his brother whom he lost during war. Sadly, he failed to resolve it before he passed away in 2008. Representatively, han that derived from the war is the sorrow, resentment, and longing for the lost physical shelter, family, and friends–a home or a sense of belonging. 

Now: Roles and Responsibilities

The generation who survived through all the traumatic experiences of Korea’s past, like my grandparents, say that they still have nightmares of the war scene to this day, where shadows of their lost family and friends haunt them. The hopeless times of pain, sorrow, and grief are passed down to the younger generation. Han is shown today in many aspects such as sports, politics, diplomacy, and more. Japan and Korea continue to stand as lifetime rivals. Sports games against Japan always tend to create the most tension in the entire vibe of the audience. There is still a dispute going on about where Dok-do Island belongs. Koreans are still persisting with protests and demanding a sincere apology about the Japanese people who abducted and forced young girls and women into sexual slavery during World War II. Today, efforts to resolve han and just that emotion are reflected everywhere all over the nation in all different forms.

Wherever they are in the world, the younger generations of Koreans live today with freedom to be able to represent themselves as Koreans. There are times where han is misused and expressed wrongly. A minor example is when parents who didn’t have the privilege to receive higher education due to past circumstances sometimes view their children as a means to resolve their han, forcing them into a breathless studying schedule from morning to midnight regardless of what their children want to pursue. Han should not be an excuse to justify people’s violence of gaslighting ideas or enforcement of actions. As the generation who have the responsibility to carry on and lead the world in the society, young Koreans must not dwell on the past but remember the history accurately and let their ancestors’ han be motivation and strength to drive forward to better the country and, moreover, even the world–be wise enough to appreciate what they have today, knowing how privileged they are.