Within hours after President Yoon Suk Yeol declared martial law on Dec. 3, a rabid right-wing YouTuber contended that 99 Chinese spies were apprehended at an election management facility and transported to a US military base in Okinawa, Japan. Thereafter, social networks were rife with rumors that the Chinese accounted for 30 percent of anti-Yoon protesters demanding his impeachment.
Nonsensical online demagoguery? Of course. But to many supporters of the disgraced YouTube-addicted former president, it rang true. After all, during his turbulent presidency, Yoon often blamed Chinese influence on domestic politics and elections without providing evidence.
The Yoon supporters eventually descended on an enclave of lamb skewer restaurants mostly run by ethnic Koreans who left China for their ancestral homeland in search of better opportunities. Screams of “Go back to China!” and “Commies, disappear quickly from the Republic of Korea!” filled the air near Konkuk University, eastern Seoul.
The pathetic scene of violence evoked a sense of deja vu.
Rewind to July 1931, when Japan hyped a minor dispute between local Chinese farmers and Korean settlers in Manchuria to justify its aggression. The dispute began when a group of Koreans subleased land outside of Wanpaoshan village, north of Changchun, Jilin province, and began digging an irrigation ditch in an area not included in the sublease.
Some 400 Chinese farmers, armed with farming tools, confronted the Koreans, and the Japanese consulate in Changchun dispatched police under the pretext of protecting subjects of their empire. The Chinese security authorities also sent police. The clash ended with several Chinese wounded, but Japanese police officers and Korean farmers unharmed.
To ignite anti-Chinese sentiment, the Japanese colonial authorities had Korean newspapers publish fabricated reports claiming that hundreds of Koreans were killed during the so-called “Wanpaoshan Incident.” Anti-Chinese riots erupted across Korea, causing hundreds of Chinese casualties and major property damage.
Meanwhile, anti-Korean riots in China continued under Japan’s wartime propaganda. Months later, a New York Times dispatch from Changchun dated Nov. 4 said: “Fully 10,000 Korean farmers have been massacred by Chinese or slain while defending their homesteads during the last six weeks in Jilin Province alone, according to an estimate given out here today by a Japanese General commanding a division of 5,500 troops.”
The media manipulation thus turned a minor skirmish between farming groups into a major conflict, devastating an ethnic community and eventually dealing a fatal blow to Korean independence movements in the broader Manchurian region.
Fast forward to chaotic post-liberation Korea in 1945. Freed at last from four decades of harsh foreign rule, Koreans failed to achieve national unity and fell victim to great power politics. Again, newspapers played a role -- significant, if not decisive -- in the partition of the peninsula under two contesting regimes.
In the summer of 1945, Koreans expected their country would quickly become free and independent again. They were not aware that the big powers, under US initiative, were considering a four-power trusteeship that might last as long as 40 to 50 years.
The trusteeship issue was resolved by the foreign ministers of the US, the UK and the Soviet Union, who convened in Moscow in December 1945. Their communique, adopting the Soviet draft concerning the Korean question, stipulated a four-power trusteeship for up to five years to supervise a unified provisional Korean government, which would be established by a US-Soviet joint commission.
On Christmas Day, before the announcement of the final decision, the United Press reported from Washington that “Secretary of State Byrns went to Russia reportedly with instructions to urge immediate independence as opposed to the Russian thesis of trusteeship.” Korean media carried the story on Dec. 27, each editing and compiling it as they saw fit. The news bombarded the already polarized political scene. The idea of “trusteeship” itself was unacceptable; anti-trusteeship became a strong rallying point for the right.
The rightist Dong-A Ilbo had an inflammatory headline: “Soviet Union Asserts Trusteeship; United States Asserts Immediate Independence.” The rightists seized upon the opportunity to denounce communists as “country-selling Soviet stooges.” The US Military Government in Korea added to the confusion by deliberately implying that trusteeship was solely a Soviet policy. Amid extreme confrontation between the right and the left, leading politicians from both camps were assassinated. The turmoil ever deepened. The North-South division perpetuated.
Much about the controversial newspaper reports on the Moscow conference, regarded as among the worst Korean press performances to date, remains a mystery. None of the newspapers offered an apology for false reporting, disregarding the basic principles of fact-checking and verification, nor did they elucidate the background of their reporting.
Most recently, the press coverage of the visit by Morse Tan, a Korean American law professor and former US ambassador-at-large for global criminal justice, raises questions about his identity as well as evidence of his claims about election fraud in South Korea and President Lee Jae-myung’s childhood. The press should focus more on fact-finding to enhance accountability and win back the public’s trust, which has been lost to social media.
Today’s information disorder and consequent conundrum, complicated by the proliferation of new media and the ever-present foreign interference, requires unwavering journalistic integrity and professionalism. News consumers also need to improve their information literacy. Ultimately, they get the media they deserve.
Lee Kyong-hee
Lee Kyong-hee is a former editor-in-chief of The Korea Herald. The views expressed here are the writer's own. -- Ed.
khnews@heraldcorp.com
