Cheering with 'the enemy'
By Andray Abrahamian
SEOUL - North and South Korea are on a diplomatic war footing as each country presents its case concerning the sinking in March of the corvette Cheonan to the United Nations Security Council.
Back on the peninsula, however, the only battles people are interested in this month take place not in New York, but in South Africa. This is the first football World Cup that both Koreas have qualified for, and the campaigns of the two national teams are softening the emotions that grew heated between the sinking of the Cheonan on March 25 with 46 deaths, and the local elections of June 2.
Some passions are simple: South Korean patriotism is never expressed more obviously and harmlessly than during the World Cup. Millions of "red devils" don horns - the nickname for South
Korea supporters - and head to public spaces to cheer. Conversation is dominated by the beautiful game. Advertising unrelated to football almost disappears. Staff at normally formal institutions can be spotted wearing the red jerseys of the "red devils" supporters' club. The patriotic exuberance rivals any country in the world. The passions surrounding North Korea's team are more complicated
The Brazil-North Korea match of June 16 had a 7.3% share of TV viewership: huge considering kickoff was at the inconvenient time of 3:30am on a weekday . A few hours later, everyone was talking about it. "Wow ... they almost did it," bantered one noodle restaurant owner with her lunchtime customers, "they looked really good." Five-times world champions Brazil won the match by two goals to one.
Yonhap News reported that South Korean commentator Cha Bum-keun was unsure how much emotion to show over the North Korean team. They are, after all, the enemy country's team. But, as he said, "I have as great affections for Ahn Young-hak and Jong Dae-se as I do for my country's players. They make my heart beat." In the end, Cha opted for a tempered commentary that left some with the impression that it was actually too dispassionate.
South Korean coach Huh Jung-Moo, after the North Korea-Brazil match, said: "We talked about it as a team; watching a weaker team defend a stronger team, we reflected a lot about it and thought what would have happened if we were in their shoes. We were inspired; it gave us some good ideas."
One idea that the World Cup has rekindled is that despite all the differences and problems facing the two countries, both teams are above all Korean. Seeing non-militarized images of North Koreans in the mass media is something of a rarity, after all. Following the months of sunken warships, torpedoes and the ubiquitous images of soldiers and missiles parading through Kim Il-sung Square, video of North Korea's star striker Jong Dae-se crying during the national anthem struck a softer chord. Love of country is something to which most South Koreans can relate. The emotion, effort and skill of a player who just as easily could have been South Korean were, for many, inspirational.
The sportsmanship of North Korea's players was also noted. Absent were the petulant whining, verbal abuse and diving that are the sad hallmark of so much international football. Instead, the North Koreans apologized after fouls, helped opposition players up after tangles and congratulated them on moments of notable effort. In turn, the Brazilians did the same, in what must have been the best-spirited contest of the tournament so far.
North Korea's small group of supporters also piqued curiosity in the South. The 100-strong band of cheering Ajosshi (middle-aged men) looked very much like any group of normal, unremarkable middle-class salarymen from the South.
Meanwhile, in the North, state television broadcast a few World Cup matches, including South Korea's two goals to zero victory over Greece. The commentary there was also tempered: politely complimentary of southern players, but not overly excited.
The Chosun Sinbo, a pro-North Korea newspaper published in Japan, claimed that North Korea's citizens "cheered the South Korean team with no exception". That the South Korea matches were broadcast at all is a sign not only that affection runs both ways across the 38th parallel, but that Pyongyang is encouraging such emotion. For its domestic audience, the government is using the World Cup to soften its tone towards the South.
For the international audience, the honorable and energetic play of the football team is also an excellent public relations opportunity. Global interest in the World Cup is, one can confidently claim, higher than interest in the sluggish proceedings at the UN Security Council.
The player that captures the most media attention is Jong Dae-Se, one of the Japan League's leading strikers. He encapsulates the complexity of being a Korean during this World Cup. Jong is Zainichi Korean: a Korean permanent resident of Japan, but not a citizen. He grew up registered by his parents as a South Korean citizen, but was schooled in the extensive pro-North education system run by the General Association of Korean Residents in Japan (Chongryon). Internationally, he had the choice to play for Japan, South Korea or North Korea.
Although Jong cried when the North Korean national anthem played, he has shown no desire to live in the communist country. He blogs for a South Korean sports website, but has made it clear he is definitely not South Korean. His blog is titled, "I am North Korea's Striker."
Some Western news outlets (including the world football governing body Federation Internationale de Football Association) have nicknamed him "Asia's Rooney", for being similar in stature and style to the Manchester United and England star Wayne Rooney. This is a less clever adaptation of what they call him in Korea: "the People's Rooney". There's a linguistic gimmick here, as the word for "people" ( inmin) is the one that the Chinese and North Koreans use in reference to things communist. As such, it isn't normally used in the South. When talking about Jong, however, it is a reminder that he is both other - North Korea's - but also, ultimately, playing for the people on both sides of the border
On Monday morning, the North Korean team will ride a bus manufactured by World Cup sponsor Hyundai to face Portugal. Meanwhile, plenty of people on the South side of the demilitarized zone will be finishing up their dinner, turning on the TV and rooting for the "enemy's team" to pull off the upset they couldn't quite manage against Brazil.
Andray Abrahamian is a doctoral candidate at the University of Ulsan, South Korea.
(Copyright 2010 Asia Times Online (Holdings) Ltd. All rights reserved. Please contact us about sales, syndication and republishing.)
Back on the peninsula, however, the only battles people are interested in this month take place not in New York, but in South Africa. This is the first football World Cup that both Koreas have qualified for, and the campaigns of the two national teams are softening the emotions that grew heated between the sinking of the Cheonan on March 25 with 46 deaths, and the local elections of June 2.
Some passions are simple: South Korean patriotism is never expressed more obviously and harmlessly than during the World Cup. Millions of "red devils" don horns - the nickname for South
Korea supporters - and head to public spaces to cheer. Conversation is dominated by the beautiful game. Advertising unrelated to football almost disappears. Staff at normally formal institutions can be spotted wearing the red jerseys of the "red devils" supporters' club. The patriotic exuberance rivals any country in the world. The passions surrounding North Korea's team are more complicated
The Brazil-North Korea match of June 16 had a 7.3% share of TV viewership: huge considering kickoff was at the inconvenient time of 3:30am on a weekday . A few hours later, everyone was talking about it. "Wow ... they almost did it," bantered one noodle restaurant owner with her lunchtime customers, "they looked really good." Five-times world champions Brazil won the match by two goals to one.
Yonhap News reported that South Korean commentator Cha Bum-keun was unsure how much emotion to show over the North Korean team. They are, after all, the enemy country's team. But, as he said, "I have as great affections for Ahn Young-hak and Jong Dae-se as I do for my country's players. They make my heart beat." In the end, Cha opted for a tempered commentary that left some with the impression that it was actually too dispassionate.
South Korean coach Huh Jung-Moo, after the North Korea-Brazil match, said: "We talked about it as a team; watching a weaker team defend a stronger team, we reflected a lot about it and thought what would have happened if we were in their shoes. We were inspired; it gave us some good ideas."
One idea that the World Cup has rekindled is that despite all the differences and problems facing the two countries, both teams are above all Korean. Seeing non-militarized images of North Koreans in the mass media is something of a rarity, after all. Following the months of sunken warships, torpedoes and the ubiquitous images of soldiers and missiles parading through Kim Il-sung Square, video of North Korea's star striker Jong Dae-se crying during the national anthem struck a softer chord. Love of country is something to which most South Koreans can relate. The emotion, effort and skill of a player who just as easily could have been South Korean were, for many, inspirational.
The sportsmanship of North Korea's players was also noted. Absent were the petulant whining, verbal abuse and diving that are the sad hallmark of so much international football. Instead, the North Koreans apologized after fouls, helped opposition players up after tangles and congratulated them on moments of notable effort. In turn, the Brazilians did the same, in what must have been the best-spirited contest of the tournament so far.
North Korea's small group of supporters also piqued curiosity in the South. The 100-strong band of cheering Ajosshi (middle-aged men) looked very much like any group of normal, unremarkable middle-class salarymen from the South.
Meanwhile, in the North, state television broadcast a few World Cup matches, including South Korea's two goals to zero victory over Greece. The commentary there was also tempered: politely complimentary of southern players, but not overly excited.
The Chosun Sinbo, a pro-North Korea newspaper published in Japan, claimed that North Korea's citizens "cheered the South Korean team with no exception". That the South Korea matches were broadcast at all is a sign not only that affection runs both ways across the 38th parallel, but that Pyongyang is encouraging such emotion. For its domestic audience, the government is using the World Cup to soften its tone towards the South.
For the international audience, the honorable and energetic play of the football team is also an excellent public relations opportunity. Global interest in the World Cup is, one can confidently claim, higher than interest in the sluggish proceedings at the UN Security Council.
The player that captures the most media attention is Jong Dae-Se, one of the Japan League's leading strikers. He encapsulates the complexity of being a Korean during this World Cup. Jong is Zainichi Korean: a Korean permanent resident of Japan, but not a citizen. He grew up registered by his parents as a South Korean citizen, but was schooled in the extensive pro-North education system run by the General Association of Korean Residents in Japan (Chongryon). Internationally, he had the choice to play for Japan, South Korea or North Korea.
Although Jong cried when the North Korean national anthem played, he has shown no desire to live in the communist country. He blogs for a South Korean sports website, but has made it clear he is definitely not South Korean. His blog is titled, "I am North Korea's Striker."
Some Western news outlets (including the world football governing body Federation Internationale de Football Association) have nicknamed him "Asia's Rooney", for being similar in stature and style to the Manchester United and England star Wayne Rooney. This is a less clever adaptation of what they call him in Korea: "the People's Rooney". There's a linguistic gimmick here, as the word for "people" ( inmin) is the one that the Chinese and North Koreans use in reference to things communist. As such, it isn't normally used in the South. When talking about Jong, however, it is a reminder that he is both other - North Korea's - but also, ultimately, playing for the people on both sides of the border
On Monday morning, the North Korean team will ride a bus manufactured by World Cup sponsor Hyundai to face Portugal. Meanwhile, plenty of people on the South side of the demilitarized zone will be finishing up their dinner, turning on the TV and rooting for the "enemy's team" to pull off the upset they couldn't quite manage against Brazil.
Andray Abrahamian is a doctoral candidate at the University of Ulsan, South Korea.
(Copyright 2010 Asia Times Online (Holdings) Ltd. All rights reserved. Please contact us about sales, syndication and republishing.)
No comments:
Post a Comment