Korea's Fight for Freedom

by Fred A. McKenzie

VI

THE RULE OF PRINCE ITO

Marquis Ito was made the first Japanese Resident-General in Korea. There could have been no better choice, and no choice more pleasing to the Korean people. He was regarded by the responsible men of the nation with a friendliness such as few other Japanese inspired. Here was a man greater than his policies. Every one who came in contact with him felt that, whatever the nature of the measures he was driven to adopt in the supposed interests of his Emperor, he yet sincerely meant well by the Korean people. The faults of his administration were the necessary accompaniments of Japanese military expansion; his virtues were his own. It was a noble act for him to take on himself the most burdensome and exacting post that Japanese diplomacy had to offer, at an age when he might well have looked for the ease and dignity of the close of an honour-sated career.

The Marquis brought with him several capable Japanese officials of high rank, and began his new rule by issuing regulations fixing the position and duties of his staff. Under these, the Resident-General became in effect supreme Administrator of Korea, with power to do what he pleased. He had authority to repeal any order or measure that he considered injurious to public interests, and he could punish to the extent of not more than a year's imprisonment or not more than a 200 yen fine. This limitation of his punitive power was purely nominal, for the country was under martial law and the courts-martial had power to inflict death. Residents and Vice-Residents, of Japanese nationality, were placed over the country, acting practically as governors. The police were placed under Japanese inspectors where they were not themselves Japanese. The various departments of affairs, agricultural, commercial, and industrial, were given Japanese directors and advisers, and the power of appointing all officials, save those of the highest rank, was finally in the hands of the Resident-General. This limitation, again, was soon put on one side. Thus, the Resident-General became dictator of Korea—a dictator, however, who still conducted certain branches of local affairs there through native officials and who had to reckon with the intrigues of a Court party which he could not as yet sweep on one side.

To Japan, Korea was chiefly of importance as a strategic position for military operations on the continent of Asia and as a field for emigration. The first steps under the new administration were in the direction of perfecting communications throughout the country, so as to enable the troops to be moved easily and rapidly from point to point. A railway had already been built from Fusan to Seoul, and another was in course of completion from Seoul to Wi-ju, thus giving a trunk line that would carry large numbers of Japanese soldiers from Japan itself to the borders of Manchuria in about thirty-six hours. A loan of 10,000,000 yen was raised on the guarantee of the Korean Customs, and a million and a half of this was spent on four main military roads, connecting some of the chief districts with the principal harbours and railway centres. Part of the cost of these was paid by the loan and part by special local taxation. It may be pointed out that these roads were military rather than industrial undertakings. The usual methods of travel and for conveying goods in the interior of Korea was by horseback and with pack-ponies. For these, the old narrow tracks served, generally speaking, very well. The new roads were finely graded, and were built in such a manner that rails could be quickly laid down on them and artillery and ammunition wagons rapidly conveyed from point to point. Another railway was built from Seoul to Gensan, on the east coast.

The old Korean "Burglar Capture Office," the native equivalent to the Bow Street Runners, or the Mulberry Street detectives, was abolished, as were the local police, and police administration was more and more put in the hands of special constables brought over from Japan. The Japanese military gendarmerie were gradually sent back and their places taken by civilian constables. This change was wholly for the good. The gendarmerie had earned a very bad reputation in country parts for harshness and arbitrary conduct. The civilian police proved themselves far better men, more conciliatory, and more just.

One real improvement instituted by the Residency-General was the closer control of Japanese immigrants. Numbers of the worst offenders were laid by the heels and sent back home. The Residency officials were increased in numbers, and in some parts at least it became easier for a Korean to obtain a hearing when he had a complaint against a Japanese. The Marquis Ito spoke constantly in favour of a policy of conciliation and friendship, and after a time he succeeded in winning over the coöperation of some of the foreigners.

It became more and more clear, however, that the aim of the Japanese was nothing else than the entire absorption of the country and the destruction of every trace of Korean nationality. One of the most influential Japanese in Korea put this quite frankly to me in 1906. "You must understand that I am not expressing official views," he told me. "But if you ask me as an individual what is to be the outcome of our policy, I only see one end. This will take several generations, but it must come. The Korean people will be absorbed by the Japanese. They will talk our language, live our life, and be an integral part of us. There are only two ways of colonial administration. One is to rule over the people as aliens. This you British have done in India, and therefore your Empire cannot endure. India must pass out of your rule. The second way is to absorb the people. This is what we will do. We will teach them our language, establish our institutions, and make them one with us."

The policy of the new administration towards foreigners was one of gradual, but no less sure, exclusion. Everything that could be done was done to rob the white man of what prestige was yet left to him. Careful and systematic efforts were made, in particular, by the Japanese newspapers and some of the officials to make the native Christian converts turn from their American teachers, and throw in their lot with the Japanese. The native press, under Japanese editorship, systematically preached anti-white doctrines. Any one who mixed freely with the Korean people heard from them, time after time, of the principles the Japanese would fain have them learn. I was told of this by ex-Cabinet Ministers, by young students, and even by native servants. One of my own Korean "boys" put the matter in a nutshell to me one day. He raised the question of the future of Japan in Asia, and he summarized the new Japanese doctrines very succinctly. "Master," he said to me, "Japanese man wanchee all Asia be one, with Japanese man topside. All Japanese man wanchee this; some Korean man wanchee, most no wanchee; all Chinaman no wanchee."

It may be thought that the Japanese would at least have learnt from their experience in 1895 not to attempt to interfere with the dress or personal habits of the people. Nothing among all their blunders during the earlier period was more disastrous to them than the regulations compelling the men to cut off their topknots. These did Japan greater harm among the common people than even the murder of the Queen. Yet no sooner had Japan established herself again than once more sumptuary regulations were issued. The first was an order against wearing white dress in wintertime. People were to attire themselves in nothing but dark-coloured garments, and those who refused to obey were coerced in many ways. The Japanese did not at once insist on a general system of hair-cutting, but they brought the greatest pressure to bear on all in any way under their authority. Court officials, public servants, magistrates, and the like, were commanded to cut their hair. Officials were evidently instructed to make every one who came under their influence have his topknot off. The Il Chin Hoi, the pro-Japanese society, followed in the same line. European dress was forced on those connected with the Court. The national costume, like the national language, was, if possible, to die. Ladies of the Court were ordered to dress themselves in foreign style. The poor ladies in consequence found it impossible to show themselves in any public place, for they were greeted with roars of derision.

The lowered status of the white in Korea could be clearly seen by the attitude of many of the Japanese towards him. I heard stories from friends of my own, residents in the country, quiet and inoffensive people that made my blood boil. It was difficult, for instance, to restrain one's indignation when a missionary lady told you of how she was walking along the street when a Japanese soldier hustled up against her and deliberately struck her in the breast. The Roman Catholic bishop was openly insulted and struck by Japanese soldiers in his own cathedral, and nothing was done. The story of Mr. and Mrs. Weigall typifies others. Mr. Weigall is an Australian mining engineer, and was travelling up north with his wife and assistant, Mr. Taylor, and some Korean servants, in December, 1905. He had full authorizations and passports, and was going about his business in a perfectly proper manner. His party was stopped at one point by some Japanese soldiers, and treated in a fashion which it is impossible fully to describe in print. They were insulted, jabbed at with bayonets, and put under arrest. One soldier held his gun close to Mrs. Weigall and struck her full in the chest with his closed fist when she moved. The man called them by the most insulting names possible, keeping the choicest phrases for the lady. Their servants were kicked. Finally they were allowed to go away after a long delay and long exposure to bitter weather, repeated insults being hurled after them. The British authorities took up this case. There was abundant evidence, and there could be no dispute about the facts. All the satisfaction, however, that the Weigalls could obtain was a nominal apology.

Then there was the case of the Rev. Mr. McRae, a Canadian missionary living in northeastern Korea. Mr. McRae had obtained some land for a mission station, and the Japanese military authorities there wanted it. They drove stakes into part of the property, and he thereupon represented the case to the Japanese officials, and after at least twice asking them to remove their stakes, he pulled them up himself. The Japanese waited until a fellow-missionary, who lived with Mr. McRae, had gone away on a visit, and then six soldiers entered his compound and attacked him. He defended himself so well that he finally drove them off, although he received some bad injuries, especially from the blows from one of the men's rifles. Complaint was made to the chief authorities, and, in this case, the Japanese promised to punish the officer concerned. But there were dozens of instances affecting Europeans of all ranks, from consular officials to chance visitors. In most cases the complaints were met by a simple denial on the part of the Japanese. Even where the offence was admitted and punishment was promised, the Europeans would assure you that the men, whom it had been promised to imprison, came and paraded themselves outside their houses immediately afterwards in triumph. In Korea, as in Formosa, the policy was and is to humiliate the white man by any means and in any way.

Two regulations of the Japanese, apparently framed in the interests of the Koreans, proved to be a dangerous blow at their rights. New land laws were drawn up, by which fresh title-deeds were given for the old and complicated deeds of former times. As the Koreans, however, pointed out, large numbers of people held their land in such a way that it was impossible for them to prove their right by written deeds. Until the end of 1905 large numbers of Koreans went abroad to Honolulu and elsewhere as labourers. The Residency-General then framed new emigration laws, nominally to protect the natives, which have had the result of making the old systematic emigration impossible. Families who would fain have escaped the Japanese rule and establish themselves in other lands had every possible hindrance put in their way.

Act after act revealed that the Japanese considered Korea and all in it belonged to them. Did they want a thing? Then let them take it, and woe be to the man who dared to hinder them! This attitude was illustrated in an interesting fashion by a bit of vandalism on the part of Viscount Tanaka, Special Envoy from the Mikado to the Korean Emperor. When the Viscount was in Seoul, late in 1906, he was approached by a Japanese curio-dealer, who pointed out to him that there was a very famous old Pagoda in the district of P'ung-duk, a short distance from Song-do. This Pagoda was presented to Korea by the Chinese Imperial Court a thousand years ago, and the people believed that the stones of which it was constructed possessed great curative qualities. They named it the "Medicine King Pagoda" (Yakwang Top), and its fame was known throughout the country. It was a national memorial as much as the Monument near London Bridge is a national memorial for Englishmen or the Statue of Liberty for Americans. Viscount Tanaka is a great curio-collector, and when he heard of this Pagoda, he longed for it. He mentioned his desire to the Korean Minister for the Imperial Household, and the Minister told him to take it if he wanted it. A few days afterwards, Viscount Tanaka, when bidding the Emperor farewell, thanked him for the gift. The Korean Emperor looked blank, and said that he did not know what the Viscount was talking about. He had heard nothing of it.

However, before long, a party of eighty Japanese, including a number of gendarmes, well armed and ready for resistance, swooped down on Song-do. They took the Pagoda to pieces and placed the stones on carts. The people of the district gathered round them, threatened them, and tried to attack them. But the Japanese were too strong. The Pagoda was conveyed in due course to Tokyo.

Such an outrage could not go unnoticed. The story of the loss spread over the country and reached the foreign press. Defenders of the Japanese at first declared that it was an obvious and incredible lie. The Japan Mail in particular opened the vials of its wrath and poured them upon the head of the editor of the Korea Daily News—the English daily publication in Seoul—who had dared to tell the tale. His story was "wholly incredible." "It is impossible to imagine any educated man of ordinary intelligence foolish enough to believe such a palpable lie, unless he be totally blinded by prejudice." The Mail discovered here again another reason for supporting its plea for the suppression of "a wholly unscrupulous and malevolent mischief-maker like the Korea Daily News." "The Japanese should think seriously whether this kind of thing is to be tamely suffered. In allowing such charges at the door of the Mikado's Special Envoy who is also Minister of the Imperial Household, the Korea Daily News deliberately insults the Mikado himself. There is indeed the reflection that this extravagance will not be without compensation, since it will demonstrate conclusively, if any demonstration were needed, how completely unworthy of credence have been the slanders hitherto ventilated by the Seoul journal to bring the Japanese into odium."

There were instant demands for denials, for explanations, and for proceedings against the wicked libeller. Then it turned out that the story was true, and, in the end, the Japanese officials had to admit its truth. It was said, as an excuse, that the Resident-General had not given his consent to the theft, and that Viscount Tanaka did not intend to keep the Pagoda himself, but to present it to the Mikado. The organ of the Residency-General in Seoul, the Seoul Press, made the best excuse it could. "Viscount Tanaka," it said, "is a conscientious official, liked and respected by those who know him, whether foreign or Japanese, but he is an ardent virtuoso and collector, and it appears that in this instance his collector's eagerness got the better of his sober judgment and discretion." But excuses, apologies, and regrets notwithstanding, the Pagoda was not returned.

It may be asked why the white people living in Korea did not make the full facts about Korea known at an earlier date. Some did attempt it, but the strong feeling that existed abroad in favour of the Japanese people—a feeling due to their magnificent conduct during the war—caused complaints to go unheeded. Many missionaries, while indignant at the injury done to their native neighbours, counselled patience, believing that the abuses were temporary and would soon come to an end.

At the beginning of the war every foreigner—except a small group of pro-Russians, sympathized with Japan. We had all been alienated by the follies and mistakes of the Russian Far Eastern policy. We saw Japan at her best, and we all believed that her people would act well by this weaker race. Our favourable impressions were strengthened by the first doings of the Japanese soldiers, and when scandals were whispered, and oppression began to appear, we all looked upon them as momentary disturbances due to a condition of war. We were unwilling to believe anything but the best, and it took some time to destroy our favourable prepossessions. I speak here not only for myself, but for many another white man in Korea at the time.

I might support this by many quotations. I take, for instance, Professor
Hulbert, the editor of the Korea Review, to-day one of the most
persistent and active critics of Japanese policy. At the opening of the war
Professor Hulbert used all his influence in favour of Japan.

"What Korea wants," he wrote, "is education, and until steps are taken in that line there is no use in hoping for a genuinely independent Korea. Now, we believe that a large majority of the best-informed Koreans realize that Japan and Japanese influence stand for education and enlightenment, and that while the paramount influence of any one outside Power is in some sense a humiliation, the paramount influence of Japan will give far less genuine cause for humiliation than has the paramount influence of Russia. Russia secured her predominance by pandering to the worst elements in Korean officialdom. Japan holds it by strength of arm, but she holds it in such a way that it gives promise of something better. The word reform never passed the Russians' lips. It is the insistent cry of Japan. The welfare of the Korean people never showed its head above the Russian horizon, but it fills the whole vision of Japan; not from altruistic motives mainly but because the prosperity of Korea and that of Japan rise and fall with the same tide."[1]

[Footnote 1: Korea Review, February, 1904.]

Month after month, when stories of trouble came from the interior, the Korea Review endeavoured to give the best explanation possible for them, and to reassure the public. It was not until the editor was forced thereto by consistent and sustained Japanese misgovernment that he reversed his attitude.

Foreign visitors of influence were naturally drawn to the Japanese rather than to the Koreans. They found in the officials of the Residency-General a body of capable and delightful men, who knew the Courts of Europe, and were familiar with world affairs. On the other hand, the Korean spokesmen had no power or skill in putting their case so as to attract European sympathy. One distinguished foreigner, who returned home and wrote a book largely given up to laudation of the Japanese and contemptuous abuse of the Koreans, admitted that he had never, during his journey, had any contact with Koreans save those his Japanese guides brought to him. Some foreign journalists were also at first blinded in the same way.

Such a state of affairs obviously could not last. Gradually the complaints of the foreign community became louder and louder, and visiting publicists began to take more notice of them.

The main credit for defending the cause of the Korean people at that time must be given to a young English journalist, editor of the Korea Daily News, Mr. Bethell took up an attitude of strong hostility to the Nagamori land scheme, and came, in consequence, in sharp hostility to the Japanese officials. This naturally led to his close association with the Korean Court. The Daily News became openly pro-Korean; its one daily edition was changed into two separate papers—one, the Dai Han Mai Il Shinpo, printed in the Korean language, and the other, printed in English, still calling itself by the old name. Several of us thought that Mr. Bethell at first weakened his case by extreme advocacy and by his indulgence in needlessly vindictive writing. Yet it must be remembered, in common justice to him, that he was playing a very difficult part The Japanese were making his life as uncomfortable as they possibly could, and were doing everything to obstruct his work. His mails were constantly tampered with; his servants were threatened or arrested on various excuses, and his household was subjected to the closest espionage. He displayed surprising tenacity, and held on month after month without showing any sign of yielding. The complaint of extreme bitterness could not be urged against his journal to the same extent after the spring of 1907. From that time he adopted a more quiet and convincing tone. He attempted on many occasions to restrain what he considered the unwise tactics of some Korean extremists. He did his best to influence public opinion against taking up arms to fight Japan.

Failing to conciliate the editor, the Japanese sought to destroy him. In order to cut the ground from under his feet an opposition paper, printed in English, was started, with an able Japanese journalist, Mr. Zumoto, Prince Ito's leading spokesman in the press, as editor. Few could have done the work better than Mr. Zumoto, but his paper, the Seoul Press, failed to destroy the Daily News.

Diplomacy was now brought into play. During the summer of 1906, the Japanese caused the translations of a number of articles from the Dai Han Mai Il Shinpo (the Korean edition of the Daily Mail) to be submitted to the British Government, with a request that Mr. Bethell's journal might be suppressed.

On Saturday, October 12th, Mr. Bethell received a summons to appear on the following Monday at a specially appointed Consular Court, to answer the charge of adopting a course of action likely to cause a breach of the peace.

The trial took place in the Consular building, Mr. Cockburn, the very able British Consul-General, acting as Judge. The short notice made it impossible for Mr. Bethell to obtain legal aid, as there were no British lawyers nearer than Shanghai or Kobe. He had to plead his cause under great disadvantages.

Eight articles were produced in court Six were comments on or descriptions of fighting then taking place in the interior. They were no stronger, if as strong, as many of the statements published in this book.

The Consul-General's decision was as anticipated. He convicted the editor, and ordered him to enter into recognizances of £300 to be of good behaviour for six months. The Korea Daily News in commenting on the matter, said, "The effect of this judgment is that for a period of six months this newspaper will be gagged, and therefore no further reports of Japanese reverses can be published in our columns."

In June, 1908, Mr. Bethell was again prosecuted at a specially convened court at Seoul, presided over by Judge Bourne of Shanghai. The charge, made by Yagoro Miura, Secretary to the Residency-General and Resident for Seoul, was of publishing various articles calculated to excite disorder and to stir up enmity between the Government of Korea and its subjects.

Mr. Bethell was represented by counsel and applied to have the case heard before a jury. The application was refused. He was convicted, sentenced to three weeks' imprisonment and required to give security for good behaviour for six months. He did not very long survive his sentence.

The people of Korea cherish his memory, and the name of "Beth-ell," as they call him, is already becoming traditional. "We are going to build a great statue to Beth-ell some day," they say. "We will never forget the man who was our friend, and who went to prison for us."