Behind the Myth: Is “Han” Uniquely Korean?
One fact well established by the globalization of our age is that emotional experiences are universal among peoples, if not individuals. Nevertheless, many Koreans and students of their culture somehow continue to accept the existence of what the popular blog “Ask the Korean!” once satirically called “super special Korean emotions.”
Much hay is particularly made of han – the emotionally burdensome sense of having been badly wronged and being helpless to ever rectify the injustice. No non-Korean should have trouble understanding that idea, yet in a 2009 article for The Korea Times, columnist Jon Huer wrote that han is a “uniquely Korean” concept that “explains much of ‘the Korean mind’.” John M. Glionna defined han for The Los Angeles Times in 2011 as “the ineffable sadness of being Korean” and claimed, “For outsiders, grasping the notion is key to fathoming the Koreans themselves.”
For all that such writers have attempted to weave an air of oriental mystery around the concept, people throughout the world would nod their head knowingly at its description. In fact an entire genre of American music arguably coalesced around the notion: the Blues, sung by African-Americans in the Deep South. Ironically, even the word han comes from outside Korea. Han is actually the Korean pronunciation of the classic Chinese word hen, meaning regret or unresolved revenge.
Mind, it is understandable that Koreans believe themselves particularly cursed. Another universal tendency among all people is to self-centeredly assume one’s own troubles are unique or rare. Rather than fight this negative impulse, however, the concept of han indulges and elevates this mistaken feeling into a national virtue.
Like other exaggerations promoted by Korean nationalism – the idea that Koreans are pure-blooded, or the supreme righteousness of Admiral Yi Sun Shin – Koreans’ overemphasis on their difficulties through han probably dates back to the Colonization Era. Prior to Japan’s annexation of Korea in 1910, there was little reason for Koreans to feel sorry for themselves. Until then, the history of the peninsula was relatively peaceful. Only two truly devastating invasions had occurred in over a millenia.
It is of course impossible to begrudge the men and women who lived through colonization, war and dictatorships the bitterness they defined as han. Like so much else in South Korea, however, han is fast becoming dated. South Koreans now live in a high-income, advanced economy frequently listed among the world’s top ten by various metrics. It is now a privilege to be a South Korean.
Still, han cannot be called a myth. How can a felt emotion be a myth? Say instead that in the twenty-first century, the concept of han is in need of reconceptualization.