The line between solidarity and jingoism.

I just watched a really interesting documentary produced by Al-Jazeera about everyday life in North Korea.  I applaud Al-Jazeera for taking such an objective approach to the subject--at least, inasmuch as one can be objective.  I thought it was great how the documentary had no narration, but showed only snapshots of people and allowed the viewers to draw their own conclusions.  There's footage from a government boardroom, a factory fighting to make quota despite the frequent nationwide blackouts, and one family's apartment.  The most quietly shocking part, I thought, was in the last couple minutes, where an old man describes American bomb raids on his house and school...and the "kill the American dogs" sentiment he's taught his tiny granddaughter because of it.

Honestly, I can't really blame him.  He's had little to no outside news during the sixty years since the Korean War, and the government has fed him a steady diet of propaganda.  And...well, the Americans did kill his father, brother, and classmates.  In his situation, what would you believe?  And what would you teach your grandchildren?

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That documentary got me thinking about a class I had a few weeks ago.  Somehow, Kim Jong Il came up.  A few kids said that he was a really bad man, but one girl was sympathetic to him.  "But he's still Korean," she said.  "He's still one of my people."  Despite his horrible actions, she couldn't completely condemn him; he shared the same blood and the same heritage.

When I told Margaret about that conversation, she made an obvious (and completely cogent) point: "Charles Manson was American, but does that earn him any sympathy in my mind?  Of course not!"  That disparity--between how Margaret thought of her evildoing countryman and how my student thought of hers--highlighted for me a unique quality of the Korean mindset.

In traditional Korea, family is of the utmost importance.  Following from that, loyalty to one's in-group is highly valued and expected; each person sticks by his or her family members, schoolmates, co-workers, and countrymen with all the Confucian fervor he or she can muster.  (I should, of course, offer the very large caveat that Korea is westernizing at a dizzying rate, and that the old Confucian values are followed to greater or lesser degrees from person to person.  What used to be quite universal is now anything but.)

As I discussed with Margaret, my student saw Kim Jong Il similarly to how a mother would see her son who had killed someone.  "I hate what he did," she might say.  "But he's still the son I raised, and I'll still go see him in prison.  You don't turn against your own family, no matter what they do."  From what I've read about the traditional Korean mindset, I have the impression that fellow Koreans are seen as extended family in a way that doesn't exist--or rarely exists--in the American mindset.

Korea has a long history of being conquered, oppressed, and abused.  Surrounded by China and Japan, Koreans call their country a shrimp among whales..."and when the whales play," they aphorize, "the shrimp gets its back broken."  Understandably, the economic and political boom South Korea experienced in the second half of the 20th century brought about a tidal wave of national pride.  As longtime victims who finally gained true autonomy, of course Koreans are proud, and of course they feel solidarity toward each other.

But is there a line?  Is my student's reticence to condemn Kim Jong Il too forgiving?  Granted, she's in third grade; at that age, probably 90% of her political opinions come from her parents.  Perhaps this particular example is not the best discussion point for the appropriateness of ethnic solidarity, given her age and the immaturity of her critical thinking skills.  Still, the broader question has gotten me thinking.

Like so many viewpoints I've experienced in Korea, I find myself questioning whether my distaste for the viewpoint is valid (and supported by ideals such as critical thinking and human equality), or whether my distaste is ethnocentric--and merely a product of my American-enculturated brain encountering something different (yet still "correct" and "valid").  Was my student showing an acceptable level of solidarity, or was she being jingoistic?

What do you all think?  Where's the line?