The Korean Mind. Boye Lafayette De MenteЧитать онлайн книгу.
collective coercion began in each individual family unit, the smallest political unit in the society. The father was responsible for the behavior of the family. The same concept of collective responsibility was extended to neighborhood communities and villages.
Today the Korean concept of morality is still based loosely on collective guilt, even though the law is not. Generally speaking, Korean society holds a family responsible for the misdeeds of any of its members, and by the same reasoning individuals cannot exonerate their families simply by declaring that their families are not responsible for their behavior. This is not to suggest that Koreans traditionally approved of chebol unconditionally. Quite the contrary. When applied arbitrarily by public authorities, it was regarded as one of the primary evils of the ruling powers. But it persisted in virtually full force in schools, in the military, and in various social organizations until the early 1970s.
Collective responsibility works especially well as a social sanction against mis-behavior because Korean culture is a “shame culture.” (See Changpi on page 27.) There is extreme pressure on all Koreans to avoid shaming themselves and their families. Foreigners living and working in Korea invariably encounter the shame factor in Korean culture, but generally they are not exposed directly to collective punishment.
(Although the concept of collective guilt and punishment may be anathema to most individualistic Westerners, if it is not carried to extremes it is the ideal social mechanism for ensuring maximal harmony in society. There is, in fact, constant dialogue in the United States in particular about a return to this ancient practice—holding parents responsible for the misconduct of their children.)
In present-day Korea chebol continues to be an important aspect of society, but it is generally enforced by private social response rather than official or government action. Individual Koreans are traditionally well behaved because they know their families will suffer if they misbehave.
As in other societies, however, violence is sanctioned in certain situations by Korean society, and those who refrain from such action are the ones criticized. The most common and conspicuous of these circumstances involve the need to focus attention on government abuses. Deliberately disobeying government edicts and attacking government officials and facilities are extremes historically deemed necessary because there was no other way of influencing the government.
In present-day Korea most such incidents are not aimed at actually killing anyone or destroying government property but are more symbolic in nature.
Chib 칩 Cheeb
Getting Family Approval
One of the legacies of Confucianism that still impacts life in Korea is the concept and practice of filial piety, which has always gone far beyond honoring and obeying one’s parents. One might say that filial piety has been the mortar of Korean society for more than seven hundred years. Until the last decades of the twentieth century, the instruction of Korean children in filial piety, in respecting and obeying their parents without question and taking care of them in their old age, was in effect the foundation on which Korean society rested.
Children who were conditioned in the home to honor and obey their superiors (their parents and other seniors in age and status) and to fulfill their social and economic obligations to their families could also be expected to be obedient, diligent, and loyal employees and citizens. The practice of Korean-style filial piety required individual members of families to suppress their own individuality and give the family or the group precedence in all things. Rather than identify themselves as individuals, people identified themselves with their families or work units in a totally collective sense.
In the Western view, individual Koreans hardly existed. They were first and last members of a chib (cheeb), or “household,” or some other group, depending on the circumstances. Individual members of chib (or chip [cheep], depending on the usage), particularly younger members and females, could not make decisions or act on their own. Korean children in particular were required to think and behave in terms of their chib to avoid bringing dishonor on the family and disrupting its hierarchical standing. Parents constantly admonished their children to behave “like a family,” not as individuals.
In the Confucian concept, chib were the building blocks of Korean society, and it was in the family that the foundation was laid for hierarchical social and political order based on the absolute submission of inferiors to superiors.
While the overall importance of the Korean chib has diminished considerably in modern times, there are many instances when it still takes precedence over the desires of individual family members and determines the opportunities that are available to them. When Koreans evaluate others, as possible marriage mates, as employees, and in other capacities, they look at the family as well as the individual, and the more important the matter at hand, the more weight the status and overall character of the chib has in their judgment.
One of the obvious results of this Confucian-oriented custom is that it contributes enormously to social harmony, a mutually cooperative spirit, and national cohesiveness—all qualities that are just as dramatically missing from many non-Confucian societies. Koreans commonly use the term chip an (cheep ahn), which literally means “inside the household” or “inside the family,” in the sense of “my home,” “my family,” and “my company” (employer), as an indication of the commonality of themselves and the units they belong to. In other words, Koreans generally regard their places of employment as families, with all the attendant family-type responsibilities.
Among the biggest challenges facing Koreans today is how to maintain the positive aspects of the character and role of the chib while taking advantage of many of the Western attitudes and customs that do, in fact, contribute to the quality and ambience of life—particularly the freedom to develop one’s own talents and lifestyle. If Koreans can successfully resolve this problem, by fusing ancient wisdom and modern knowledge, they could have one of the best of all social systems.
Chimsul 침술 Cheem-suhl
Needling Cosmic Power
Chimsul (cheem-suhl), or “acupuncture” (also sometimes spelled shimsul in roman letters), is another of the many concepts brought to Korea from China some two thousand years ago that has survived into modern times and now exists side by side with Western ideas. The principle of acupuncture is based on the belief that the “life force” that animates the body and energizes the various organs flows through the body in precise channels. When this energy is weakened or disrupted for any reason, the particular organ that is affected and the body as a whole cannot function normally.
As long as three thousand years ago, Chinese doctors identified and mapped the body’s network of energy channels, then located more than 650 “points” where needles could be inserted into these channels to achieve some desired result. Acupuncturists say that inserting tiny needles into these energy channels has a variety of effects, ranging from stimulating and increasing the energy flow to blocking the flow, depending on where in the channels the needles are inserted.
Surprisingly enough, the channels and insertion points relating to particular body organs are often nowhere near the organs themselves. The insertion point for a problem involving the head or upper portion of the body may be located on the feet. (Western doctors agree that the bottoms of the feet are a mass of nerve endings, but they do not agree that the nerves “connect” with any of the other parts of the body.)
Practitioners of acupuncture say that it is not an instant cure for the variety of more serious ailments that develop over a long period of time. In such cases, they say, the treatment must continue for months to years if it is to have any chance of reversing the condition.
There is no question that acupuncture works in reducing or eliminating a number of ailments. It has been in use for more than three thousand years and has proven itself over and over again. One of its most dramatic uses is as an anesthetic in serious surgical operations on the brain. However, neither the Koreans nor the Chinese, who discovered and developed acupuncture, can explain in acceptable scientific terms exactly how and why it works. But in the 1980s Chinese medical authorities began a research program, with modern-day scientific guidelines, in a determined