As the 70th anniversary of the Korean Armistice Agreement nears, South Korea grapples with competing memories of the Korean War. Historical sites have become powerful mediums through which the past is remembered and contested by the government, war veterans, and victims.

Historical sites and narratives operate in public spaces as “shared memories.” A shared memory is not just an aggregate of accepted facts, it is an all-encompassing phenomenon that forges a particular attitude, empathy, and understanding of an event. Designated national historical sites are therefore indicative of what a state considers important to its past, irrespective of whether the state-endorsed historical narratives are accepted or agreed upon by citizens.

To maintain nationalist sentiment and pride after the Korean War, the government of South Korea erected honorific museums and monuments to engrain a hegemonic version of the past and attempt to win the hearts and minds of the population. However, these efforts have not fostered a universal shared memory of South Korea’s modern history. With no consensus on the full extent of injustices committed against civilians during the war, reconciliation within South Korea has been limited to symbolic, nominal efforts such as apologies, compensation, and non-government initiatives.

The War Memorial of Korea: The pinnacle of nationalism

A theme of heroism and national struggle is interwoven into South Korea’s history. Established in 1994, the War Memorial of Korea is a pivotal memory vehicle for the government to commemorate the war dead by forging a patriotic Korean lineage between the dead and the living. This is not only felt through its exhibitions but is embedded in the spatial order of entering the Memorial Hall itself. Upon entering the main gate, visitors are directed to walk through a pilgrimage-like path from the outermost corridors to the Memorial Hall, the innermost “shrine” that contains a large marble bowl resembling an alter in a temple. A concentrated light is projected onto the bowl, inviting visitors to remember and worship the dead. According to the museum’s website, the artwork “represents that the prosperity Korea relishes today is based on the sacrifice of the patriotic fighters in the past and will continue to grow in the days ahead.” Martyrdom frames the entire museum, with casualties being described as “heroes” (as opposed to soldiers or civilians) whose sacrifices (as opposed to death) embody the “spirit of national self-defence.”

Honouring fallen soldiers and promoting an unequivocally triumphal vision of wars is not uncommon in war memorials worldwide. In Dandong, China, the Memorial of the War to Resist US Aggression and Aid Korea remembers Chinese soldiers as heroes acting in solidarity with their smaller and embattled neighbour. Although glorifying fallen soldiers is one aspect of the museum’s efforts to foster a shared national memory, forging a national identity that favourably differentiates South Korea from other nations is another key agenda.

The construction of the War Memorial reflected a new narrative of the Korean War that sought to hold North Korea accountable for the nation’s tragedies while simultaneously leaving open a potential path to reconciliation between the two Koreas. The former can be seen in the museum’s video explanations of the cause of the war, which proclaim that in 1948, North Korea “tried to impede South Korea’s separate election, and especially on Jeju Island, communist sympathisers attacked and set fire to government offices and even killed people.” The latter was primarily achieved through the museum’s tacit forgetfulness of massacres and brutalities committed by North Korean troops. This conscious oversight of North Korean aggression in South Korea’s national memory allowed the government to remain equally silent on atrocities committed by South Korean and US forces.

Notwithstanding the museum’s neglect of both parties’ mutual responsibility for atrocities, reconciliation is strategically presented as a process predicated on South Korea’s victory and forgiveness vis-à-vis North Korea. The Statue of Brothers communicates this message with the larger South Korean soldier’s embrace of his weaker North Korean brother symbolising both forgiveness and the victory of South Korean democracy over communism. Far from being an authoritative narrative of the Korean War, the War Memorial of Korea represents the government’s efforts to idolise the past and conceal a tainted image of military officials.

The rise of historical counternarratives in an era of political liberalisation

The government’s endorsed historical narratives not only neglect atrocities committed by the state but also ensure the accomplishments of historic figures overshadow questionable reputations they may have within the wider community. The MacArthur statue was erected in 1957 in Incheon to commemorate the nation’s gratitude to General Douglas MacArthur, who infamously led the UN forces during the Korean War. The statue towers over passersby, emanating a sense of sacredness and prestige. Indeed, the park in which the statue is located was renamed to Jayu Park (jayu meaning freedom) when the statue was erected. It was envisioned by President Syngman Rhee, the first South Korean president who came into power in 1948 with US support, that the statue would symbolise a strong South Korea-US alliance and anti-communist position.

However, as South Korea’s transition to a democracy invited suppressed memories and traumas to be reclaimed, the venerated legacy of General MacArthur became increasingly contested. Progressive groups criticised the roles of MacArthur and the US in the war. They claimed that the US were not liberators of South Korea, but imperial occupiers, and that the nation’s official history overlooked MacArthur’s indiscriminate military campaigns.

This resistance to the government’s memory of the Korean War eventually culminated in a demonstration on 11 September 2005, the 55th anniversary of the Incheon Landing, in which protestors tried to tear the statue down. Approximately 4,000 activists from unions, student organisations, and political dissident groups clashed with police officers and conservatives (war veterans, ex-marines, and patriotic organisations) who eventually managed to keep the statue intact. While there was no physical damage to the statue, which remains in Jayu Park today, the memories that it symbolises have dramatically changed since 1957.

The statue now symbolises the unresolved tensions between hegemonic and counterhegemonic historical narratives. On the one hand, the government and conservative groups remain loyal to the statue as a signifier of South Korea’s liberation. On the other hand, progressive groups remain dissatisfied with the nation’s lack of historical revisionism surrounding the glorification of international actors like MacArthur. To them, the statue signifies imperialism and the nation’s colonial past. Without agreement on which aspects of the past require accountability, acknowledgement, and criticism, intergenerational reconciliation and harmony remains tenuous.

The power and possibilities of public space

The War Memorial of Korea and the MacArthur statue illustrate the deep social and historical divisions within South Korean society regarding how the Korean War should be remembered. The government of South Korea and patriots have fervently defended an honourable, comforting version of the past that fails to embrace a more critical lens towards darker pasts and traumas such as the Jeju 3.4 Incident and No Gun Ri massacre. This has inhibited collective healing beyond national apologies and compensation schemes.

To truly confront and reconcile with the past, historical injustices must be given as much, if not more, recognition as highlighted historical achievements. These achievements must equally be scrutinised in light of such historical injustices. While the past is currently unsettled, the fact that historical narratives are constantly being reimagined and reconstituted through sites such as the MacArthur statue creates hope for what can be achieved even after 70 years.

Natalie Seeto is a penultimate year student completing a Bachelor of Laws/Arts (International Relations) at the Australian National University. She is interested in Southeast Asian affairs, Peace and Conflict studies, and post-colonial legacies. She is a former intern at the AIIA National Office. LinkedIn: @natalieseeto29

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