Japan, S. Korea researchers at odds over forced labor, 'comfort women'

A little old, but interesting and relevant nonetheless.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Japan, S. Korea researchers at odds over forced labor, 'comfort women'
Kyodo News
Japanese and South Korean historians have again failed to reach a consensus view on Japan's 1910-1945 colonial rule of the Korean Peninsula, notably its recruitment of Korean laborers and women, as well as the drafting of Koreans into the Japanese military.


Agree to disagree: South Korean junior high and high school history textbooks are displayed in Seoul. KYODO PHOTO



The two countries' second joint history study group issued a 2,200-page report Tuesday nearly three years after discussions got under way in June 2007. A report by the first study group was released in June 2005.

The joint team, comprising 17 scholars each from Japan and South Korea, conducted discussions in four subcommittees covering ancient, history, modern and contemporary history, and history textbooks. The history textbook panel was set up for the second round of discussions.

In talks by the textbook subcommittee, a Japanese historian argued that South Korea made efforts to keep Japanese imperialist thinking out of the country after the occupation ended and that this eventually became anti-Japan education.

A South Korean scholar expressed understanding of that argument, saying the Japanese historian's view was an honest effort by the Japanese side to deepen understanding of South Korea. But the Korean scholar nevertheless rejected the argument that South Korea's curriculum was anti-Japanese.

Also in the latest report, a Japanese historian argued that Japanese emperors and prime ministers expressed a sense of remorse or offered apologies Japan's past misdeeds, but no South Korean history textbooks touch on this.

The Japanese side called for creating history textbooks that would teach students the neighboring country's modern and contemporary history.

Another South Korean scholar took up Japan's use of Korean laborers, the so-called comfort women, and the pressing of Koreans into Japanese military service under the theme of "recruitment of labor."

The term "comfort women" refers to women, mainly from Korea, whom Japan sent to frontline brothels to provide sex for Japanese soldiers before and during World War II.

The Korean scholar argued that Japan recruited labor from the Korean Peninsula "systematically and deceptively." The Japanese side denied that contention, saying there were no systematic policies on the use of forced labor and comfort women during Japan's rule over the Korean Peninsula.

On Japanese-language education in Korea during the colonial period, a Japanese historian said Japanese teachers did their best to teach Korean students and that Japanese was considered a tool to acquire modern knowledge and technology.

In response, a South Korean scholar said Japanese-language education was forced, terming the Japanese historian's view "selfish."

Japanese historians avoided mentioning the territorial dispute over the South Korean-controlled islets in the Sea of Japan called Takeshima in Japan and Dokdo in South Korea.

South Korean historians were critical of Japan's claim to the islands and said it represents Japan's ignorance of its wartime responsibilities.

The Japanese scholars regard the territorial dispute as beyond the scope of the history discussions because it is an issue between the two governments.

The joint panel was led by Yasushi Toriumi, a professor emeritus at the University of Tokyo, and Cho Kwang, a professor at Korea University's College of Liberal Arts.

Japan and South Korea agreed to the joint historical study in 2001 as part of a bilateral project aimed at promoting mutual understanding and bridging gaps in historical perceptions between the two countries.

Relations at the time were chilled by a dispute over a Japanese history textbook for public schools that South Korea said whitewashed Japan's wartime atrocities.

In the 2005 report by the first study panel, which comprised 11 historians from each side, South Korean historians stated Japan forced Korea to accept the Second Japan-Korea Agreement in 1905, which made Korea a Japanese protectorate, and the 1910 Annexation Treaty.

The South Koreans argued these pacts were invalid because procedures for their signing and ratification were lacking.

A Japanese scholar asserted that there was nothing in the treaties that would make them invalid under international law.

Japan established a similar joint historical study group with China. In late January, scholars from Japan and China issued a 549-page report covering ancient, medieval and modern history.

North Korea's star at the World Cup

North Korea's star at the World Cup
Striker Jong Tae-se of North Korea's 2010 World Cup team was raised in Japan, had a pro-Pyongyang education and has dreamed of soccer greatness since elementary school.

By Barbara Demick and Yuriko Nagano, Los Angeles Times
Reporting from Beijing and Tokyo — He is the new public face of North Korea:

Jong Tae-se is a 26-year-old publicity hound with his own blog, where he strikes a sultry bare-chested pose. He has appeared in television commercials. He drives a silver Hummer and likes to dress like hip-hop artist Tupac Shakur. When he goes on the road, he travels with a laptop, iPod and sometimes a Nintendo DS and a Sony PlayStation Portable.

Jong is the star striker of North Korea's 2010 World Cup team. That makes him at this particular moment the most recognizable living North Korean, with the possible exception of the Dear Leader himself, Kim Jong Il.

This is the first time North Korea has qualified for the World Cup since 1966. Although the country is as much a pariah as ever, having been implicated in the recent torpedo attack on a South Korean warship that killed 46 people, its novelty value keeps it in the headlines coming out of South Africa. At the bottom of the 32 teams in competition, North Korea is pitted against top-ranked Brazil in its first match, on Tuesday, a classic minnow-against-the-whale competition that should be curiosity enough to attract a strong following.

"People don't know about North Korea. We want to change North Korea's image," Jong told reporters last week outside the Makhulong Stadium in Tembisa, on the outskirts of Johannesburg, South Africa.

If Jong sounds like a most improbable North Korean, it might be because he was born and grew up in a community of 600,000 Koreans who live in Japan. Most of them are descendents of laborers who came over during Japan's occupation of the Korean peninsula. He was educated in pro-Pyongyang schools run by the General Assn. of Korean Residents in Japan.

As a child, Jong obsessively watched videos of one of the most famous World Cup upsets of all time: a 1966 match in which North Korea beat Italy to advance to the quarterfinals.

North Korea started wooing him during his sophomore year at Tokyo-based Korea University. But the effort was complicated by the fact that Jong had been registered by his father as a South Korean. (Like most Korean residents of Japan, he didn't have Japanese citizenship.) The South Korean government would not let him give up his citizenship because it doesn't recognize North Korea.

"I am not South Korean!" Jong protested to a South Korean sports magazine in the midst of a protracted battle to renounce his citizenship. He qualified for the North Korean team anyway, since soccer federation rules allow dual nationality, but Jong is dogged by criticism that he is not North Korean enough. He has never lived in the country except for short stretches training with the team.

"It is hard to say what nationality he is," said Masafumi Mori, author of a recently published Japanese-language biography. "Jong is like this figure, standing right on top of where the Earth's crusts of the three countries of North Korea, South Korea, Japan meet."

Despite his attempt to renounce his citizenship, Jong's popularity extends to both sides of the border. South Korea's team is in the World Cup too, but when it comes to soccer, the estranged Koreans usually cheer each other on. Jong appeared last year in a television commercial for the South Korean energy drink Bacchus with Park Ji-sung, captain of South Korea's World Cup team. He also writes a column for a South Korean Web portal.

"I think it is too bad we didn't notice him when he was in high school or college. Maybe we would have picked him instead for the South Korean team," said Do Young-in, a reporter covering the World Cup for Sports Seoul.

For the North Koreans, using players raised in Japan has its advantages. Their team is handicapped by the country's poverty and isolation. Although top athletes have adequate food and training facilities, they have limited opportunity to play outsiders — or even to watch matches, since foreign television broadcasts are banned in North Korea.

"It was a very clever move for them to bring in people who live abroad and have experience playing in more competitive leagues," said Simon Cockerell, a Briton living in Beijing who has organized a North Korean soccer fan club.

Another player raised in Japan is midfielder Ahn Yong-hak. The team's Hong Yong-jo also has an international reputation, playing with the Russian premier league team FC Rostov. But it is Jong, with an impish grin and a full crest of hair that gives him a cone-headed look (his nickname among North Korean fans is "Acornhead"), who has captured the public's attention.

"He's good-looking. He scores lots of goals. He knows how to deal with media," Cockerell said.

Beyond the flamboyance is a serious athlete, say those who have worked with him.

After college, he became a professional player for the J-League's Kawasaki Frontale. "We chose him because he had these powerful moves that were rare with Japanese players," said his coach there, Tsutomu Takahata. "He has grown into a player who moves symbiotically with the others."

"He's the real thing," said Lee Chang-gang, a professional player with Japan's Fagiano Okayama team who played soccer with Jong in elementary school. He remembers him as a hotheaded kid who was sometimes taken out of a game for bad behavior. But Jong was sufficiently serious about the sport that he learned to control his temper, Lee said. "He aimed to be a professional soccer player from his elementary school days."

The transition to playing with the North Korean national team was not easy for Jong. He had to learn how to care for and assemble his own equipment, how to do his own laundry and carry his own bags, according to his biographer.

Jong had spoken and written openly about his irritation at times with the lack of worldliness of his North Korean teammates.

In a blog posting May 24, Jong recalled a stop during a trip from Switzerland to Austria, when his teammates headed to the men's room and then came rushing out in consternation. They had not expected a pay toilet.

"I laughed a little seeing this. Then they turned to me and said, 'This is truly what capitalist society is like,' " Jong wrote.

He used to have a hard time with the way his teammates would handle his personal possessions, especially his cellphone. With time, he learned that he needed to allow them to use his Nintendo and PlayStation to build goodwill within the team. "It has taken a lot to accept their culture," he told reporters in South Africa.

Fortunately for Jong, he probably will not have to do much adjusting to North Korean culture, as he showed no interest in settling down in Pyongyang. His goal during the World Cup, Jong has said repeatedly, is to score once in each game, just once.

And then to sign on to play in England.

barbara.demick@latimes.com

Nagano is a special correspondent in Tokyo.
This is the first time North Korea has qualified for the World Cup since 1966. Although the country is as much a pariah as ever, having been implicated in the recent torpedo attack on a South Korean warship that killed 46 people, its novelty value keeps it in the headlines coming out of South Africa. At the bottom of the 32 teams in competition, North Korea is pitted against top-ranked Brazil in its first match, on Tuesday, a classic minnow-against-the-whale competition that should be curiosity enough to attract a strong following.

"People don't know about North Korea. We want to change North Korea's image," Jong told reporters last week outside the Makhulong Stadium in Tembisa, on the outskirts of Johannesburg, South Africa.

If Jong sounds like a most improbable North Korean, it might be because he was born and grew up in a community of 600,000 Koreans who live in Japan. Most of them are descendents of laborers who came over during Japan's occupation of the Korean peninsula. He was educated in pro-Pyongyang schools run by the General Assn. of Korean Residents in Japan.

As a child, Jong obsessively watched videos of one of the most famous World Cup upsets of all time: a 1966 match in which North Korea beat Italy to advance to the quarterfinals.

North Korea started wooing him during his sophomore year at Tokyo-based Korea University. But the effort was complicated by the fact that Jong had been registered by his father as a South Korean. (Like most Korean residents of Japan, he didn't have Japanese citizenship.) The South Korean government would not let him give up his citizenship because it doesn't recognize North Korea.

"I am not South Korean!" Jong protested to a South Korean sports magazine in the midst of a protracted battle to renounce his citizenship. He qualified for the North Korean team anyway, since soccer federation rules allow dual nationality, but Jong is dogged by criticism that he is not North Korean enough. He has never lived in the country except for short stretches training with the team.

"It is hard to say what nationality he is," said Masafumi Mori, author of a recently published Japanese-language biography. "Jong is like this figure, standing right on top of where the Earth's crusts of the three countries of North Korea, South Korea, Japan meet."

Despite his attempt to renounce his citizenship, Jong's popularity extends to both sides of the border. South Korea's team is in the World Cup too, but when it comes to soccer, the estranged Koreans usually cheer each other on. Jong appeared last year in a television commercial for the South Korean energy drink Bacchus with Park Ji-sung, captain of South Korea's World Cup team. He also writes a column for a South Korean Web portal.

"I think it is too bad we didn't notice him when he was in high school or college. Maybe we would have picked him instead for the South Korean team," said Do Young-in, a reporter covering the World Cup for Sports Seoul.

For the North Koreans, using players raised in Japan has its advantages. Their team is handicapped by the country's poverty and isolation. Although top athletes have adequate food and training facilities, they have limited opportunity to play outsiders — or even to watch matches, since foreign television broadcasts are banned in North Korea.

"It was a very clever move for them to bring in people who live abroad and have experience playing in more competitive leagues," said Simon Cockerell, a Briton living in Beijing who has organized a North Korean soccer fan club.

Another player raised in Japan is midfielder Ahn Yong-hak. The team's Hong Yong-jo also has an international reputation, playing with the Russian premier league team FC Rostov. But it is Jong, with an impish grin and a full crest of hair that gives him a cone-headed look (his nickname among North Korean fans is "Acornhead"), who has captured the public's attention.

"He's good-looking. He scores lots of goals. He knows how to deal with media," Cockerell said.

Beyond the flamboyance is a serious athlete, say those who have worked with him.

After college, he became a professional player for the J-League's Kawasaki Frontale. "We chose him because he had these powerful moves that were rare with Japanese players," said his coach there, Tsutomu Takahata. "He has grown into a player who moves symbiotically with the others."

"He's the real thing," said Lee Chang-gang, a professional player with Japan's Fagiano Okayama team who played soccer with Jong in elementary school. He remembers him as a hotheaded kid who was sometimes taken out of a game for bad behavior. But Jong was sufficiently serious about the sport that he learned to control his temper, Lee said. "He aimed to be a professional soccer player from his elementary school days."

The transition to playing with the North Korean national team was not easy for Jong. He had to learn how to care for and assemble his own equipment, how to do his own laundry and carry his own bags, according to his biographer.

Jong had spoken and written openly about his irritation at times with the lack of worldliness of his North Korean teammates.

In a blog posting May 24, Jong recalled a stop during a trip from Switzerland to Austria, when his teammates headed to the men's room and then came rushing out in consternation. They had not expected a pay toilet.

"I laughed a little seeing this. Then they turned to me and said, 'This is truly what capitalist society is like,' " Jong wrote.

He used to have a hard time with the way his teammates would handle his personal possessions, especially his cellphone. With time, he learned that he needed to allow them to use his Nintendo and PlayStation to build goodwill within the team. "It has taken a lot to accept their culture," he told reporters in South Africa.

Fortunately for Jong, he probably will not have to do much adjusting to North Korean culture, as he showed no interest in settling down in Pyongyang. His goal during the World Cup, Jong has said repeatedly, is to score once in each game, just once.

And then to sign on to play in England.

barbara.demick@latimes.com

Nagano is a special correspondent in Tokyo.

Zainichi player, Jong Tae Se in North Korean Soccer team

NKorea’s Rooney loves his cars, clothes and rap

By JEAN H. LEE, Associated Press Writer jun 14, 13:01 EDT

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TEMBISA, South Africa (AP)—He plays like Rooney but behaves more like Beckham. He loves his cars, his rap music and his clothes, and changes hairstyles more often than you can say “Kim Jong Il.”

North Korea striker Jong Tae Se is not your average North Korean.

Born and raised in Japan, the 26-year-old forward has never lived in communist North Korea, and says he has no plans to. He loves to shop, snowboard and dreams of marrying Korea’s Posh Spice—none of which would be possible in the impoverished North, one of the most isolated countries in the world.

But he wears the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea jersey with pride, and is moved to tears when he hears the country’s anthem. The boy from Nagoya could become North Korea’s biggest international soccer star since Pak Doo Ik scored the goal that knocked Italy out of the World Cup in 1966.

“He is Japanese but isn’t a Japanese, he is Korean but is playing on the North Korean squad, he is a North Korean national but lives in Japan—all these things are very difficult for the world to understand,” Shin Mu Koeng, a friend and his biographer, said Monday from Tokyo.

North Korea is back in the World Cup for the first time in 44 years. They were the mystery team in 1966, and they’re the mystery team in 2010. Very little is known about the team from North Korea, sheltered players mostly in their early 20s with limited international experience.

Jong, witty and personable, with a dazzling smile, cheeky personality and talent for making goals, gives lowest-ranked North Korea a bit of star power as they face teams from Brazil, Portugal and Ivory Coast stacked with big names.

Jong is quickly becoming his team’s biggest personality and most powerful asset, setting himself apart on and off the field, from his fashion sense to his playing style.

On the pitch, Jong is fast and aggressive, North Korea’s leading scorer with 16 goals in 24 international matches. His impressive play earned him comparisons to England’s Wayne Rooney among South Korean media.

He collects sneakers and considers himself a bit of a fashion hound. Last Wednesday, he was sporting gelled hair. By Thursday he had shaved it all off. And he’s not shy about admitting that he cried like a baby watching South Korea’s most famous soap opera, “Winter Sonata.”

This is how he sees himself in five years: driving a car worthy of a rap star, with a pop star like one of the singers from the Wondergirls—South Korea’s version of the Spice Girls—on his arm, and playing for a big-name club in Europe.

“North Korea’s Wayne Rooney?” North Koreans hope Rooney will someday be seen as “England’s Jong Tae Se.”

Jong could have played in South Korea or Japan, but he chose North Korea.

Born in Nagoya to an ethnic Korean family, he inherited his father’s South Korean citizenship but was raised and schooled in his mother’s pro-North Korean community.

He is among Japan’s nearly 600,000 “zainichi,” ethnic Koreans who live in Japan as long-term residents, many of them third- and fourth-generation descendants of laborers or conscripts who have lived there since Japan’s 1910-45 colonial rule of Korea.

Their first language may be Japanese, but Jong and midfielder An Yong Hak were raised within the zainichi community, attending Korean-language schools and pledging allegiance to North Korea founder Kim Il Sung and current leader Kim Jong Il.

Still, Jong’s zainichi background sets him apart. He says he never travels without his iPod, laptop and Nintendo, much to the curiosity of teammates from a country with only one state-run TV channel where such luxuries are reserved for top officials.

Their games are simple: rock, scissors and paper are enough to send them into fits of shouts and laughter, he says. Teammates flock to his room during overseas matches, asking to listen to his music, play Super Mario, borrow his books or fluorescent Nike running shoes and hear about life in the J-League— including how much money he makes.

“Tae Se worried a lot about the difference in background,” said Shin, who has known Jong since elementary school. “The North Korean team lacks a lot of the equipment and the infrastructure that Jong’s been used to, as a J-League player” for Japan’s Kawasaki Frontale.

He’s developed a close bond with An, a lanky fellow zainichi North Korean teammate who now plays for Omiya Ardija in Japan but also for the South Korean club Suwon Bluewings.

But Jong has said he admires his North Korean teammates’ passion for soccer, and noted that they are largely indifferent to money and materialism.

“He had many doubts, but as he trained with the North Korean players, he saw their pureness,” said Shin, whose biography about Jong was released in South Korea and Japan. “They never complained about the inadequacies and they did their absolute best.”

“They were playing for their team and for victory, nothing else.”

Jong is also well aware of the controversies surrounding North Korea, which remains locked in a standoff with the international community over its nuclear program and has been hauled before the U.N. Security Council on accusations of sinking a South Korean warship in March.

“You don’t cut off your parents from your life just because they’ve made mistakes. I, too, can’t betray my parents who have raised me,” referring to North Korea,” Jong says in Shin’s biography, “Our Player, Unseen Us.”

Don’t expect him to move anytime soon to Pyongyang. “My homeland is not Japan. There’s another country in Japan, called Zainichi,” he says in the book. “None of these countries—South Korea, North Korea and Japan—can be my home country, because I’m a zainichi and therefore Zainichi is my native land.

“And I think that’s the purpose of my life—letting the world know of the zainichi existence.”

On his blog, he wrote from Johannesburg that he was filled with renewed awe for the power of football and the role he can play in the sport.

“Yesterday, I clarified a new goal and dream,” he wrote in Japanese last week. “Instead of sticking within the line of national boundaries, I’ll be acclaimed in the wider world as a player who tore down such high and invisible walls.”

Associated Press writers Sangwon Yoon, Mirae Kang and Claire Lee in Seoul, South Korea, contributed to this report.