Starbucks: Void of Historical Sensitivity

By Kim Jongbun ||

On the evening of June 2, I walked into a Starbucks near the waterfront – not to order a drink but to request a refund.

I recovered the remaining cash from two store cards on the spot; the balance from my app, I was told, would take a few days to process. As I stepped outside, the night breeze touched my face. I turned toward the sea and called out, “Goodbye, Starbucks”!

“In Gwangju, a tank is never a neutral symbol. It is the living embodiment of state violence.”

I am someone who lived through May 1980. Certain images from that time refuse to leave me. On May 15 of that year, at a rally in front of Seoul Station protesting Chun Doo-hwan’s military dictatorship, I stayed with those who opposed the order to disperse. Chased into the alleyways of Sogong-dong, I was caught. I cannot forget the eyes of the officer who struck me: large, bloodshot eyes flashing beneath a combat helmet. Nor can I forget the long corridor on the 12th floor of Hanyang Apartments in Apgujeong, where I was taken after being apprehended on a warrant. Looking down from that height, I thought, “Should I jump rather than be taken?” The fear of that moment has never left me.

Illustration of one of the May 18 memories deeply ingrained in one Gwangju expat resident’s mind: the military tank that perched itself in the middle of the rotary then located in the center of the Sansu-dong five-way intersection. (GN with Microsoft Copilot)

Following, there was the military tribunal held at the Capital Defense Command just days before Christmas 1980; it remains in my memory as a gray, indistinct haze. These are memories I will carry for the rest of my life, and I only experienced May 1980 as a 23-year-old student in Seoul. How many more painful memories must those in Gwangju carry – those who survived the massacre itself?

In Gwangju, a tank is not merely military equipment. It is the symbol of state power turned against its own people – a symbol of the terror that crushed democracy. When armored vehicles occupied the streets and gun barrels were aimed at civilians, the people of Gwangju were no longer citizens to be protected. They had become targets of suppression and slaughter.

Communication – Harmony – Solidarity. The slogan and logo of the Gwangju-Jeonnam Democracy Movement Comrades Assocication of which Kim Jongbun is co-representative. Founded in 2009, the association is made up of democracy activists and democratic movement figures who fought against Korea’s authoritarian dictatorships and continue to preserve the “Spirit of May.”

When I learned that Starbucks had run a campaign called “Tank Day,” using military vehicle imagery as a marketing tool, I felt terror, rage, betrayal, and pain. It revealed an ignorance of Gwangju’s history and its wounds, and a chilling indifference toward those who gave their lives for democracy. Some argue that the company had no political intent – that it was simply a consumer engagement event. Jeong Yong-jin, CEO of Starbucks Korea, called it “inappropriate marketing” and acknowledged that “the responsibility is not light,” yet added that “people may think differently.” It was an apology without sincerity. In Gwangju, a tank is never a neutral symbol. It is the living embodiment of state violence, still vivid in the memory of countless people. Using tanks as marketing material in Gwangju is no different from running a promotional event in Germany built around Nazi imagery. It is pouring salt into an open wound.

“May 18 is not a regional incident. It is the foundation of South Korean democracy.”

May 18 is not a regional incident. It is the foundation of South Korean democracy – a struggle in which countless people shed blood for the freedoms and rights we exercise today. Any company operating in this city has a basic obligation to understand the historical memory and social sensibilities of this community. Marketing that ignores local history ultimately forfeits public trust. To turn symbols of state violence into commercial entertainment is incompatible with any genuine commitment to human rights.

As a person of merit recognized under the May 18 Democratization Movement, I cannot dismiss this as a careless mistake. It has forced me to confront how readily our society forgets history, and how quickly the memory of suffering is reduced to a marketing opportunity. That is why I have chosen to leave behind a brand I once loved. Say NO to Starbucks. The boycott of a Starbucks without historical sensitivity will continue. 

Cover Photo: Illustration of one of the May 18 memories deeply ingrained in one Gwangju expat resident’s mind: the military tank that perched itself in the middle of the rotary then located in the center of the Sansu-dong five-way intersection. (GN with Microsoft Copilot)