Korea's folktale foreign policy
Are Korea's politicians and diplomats influenced by folktales? What do Heungbu and Nolbu have to do with nukes?
Folktales might seem like relics of childhood, full of fantastical elements far removed from the real world but these stories also carry tradition, cultural values, and societal norms that subtly influence the way we think. As foundations of storytelling narrative they even influence the way politicians and diplomats think and reason, and so in turn influence foreign policy and diplomacy.
It’s a stretch, but if you’re going to know a country, you’ve also got to know its folktales. So for a creativity exercise, why not try to draw a link between Korea’s most popular folktales and its most pressing foreign policy issues?
There’s of course thousands of Korean folktales. I’ll use three folktales that everyone knows. I’ll also link pretty whack cartoons that you can watch and get the gist of the story without speaking Korean. Also, it’s important to note that just like Western folktales, each of these stories is sooooo incredibly out of date with the way we now think that it’s hard to imagine any relation to modern society, let alone foreign policy! But let’s give it a go.
“Heungbu and Nolbu” (흥부와 놀부) tells the story of two brothers. When their parents die, Nolbu tricks his brother to get all their money. So, Heungbu is kind and poor, while Nolbu is greedy and wealthy. Sometime later, after Nolbu refuses to help Heungbu, Heungbu rescues an injured swallow, which later rewards him with a magical gourd that brings wealth. Jealous, Nolbu injures a swallow to receive the same reward. However, the gourd he receives instead brings disaster and misfortune. In the end, Nolbu learns his lesson, and Heungbu forgives him. The tale highlights the virtues of kindness and generosity, contrasting them with the consequences of greed and selfishness.
"The Sun and the Moon" (해와 달이 된 오누이) is a Korean folktale about a poor widow and her two children. One day, a tiger kills the mother while she is out gathering food. Disguising itself as her, the tiger tries to deceive the children to eat them too. The children realize the trick and escape by climbing a tree. They pray to the heavens for help, and a magical rope descends, lifting them to the sky. The brother becomes the sun, and the sister becomes the moon, lighting the world and protecting people from harm.
"The Woodcutter and the Heavenly Maiden" (선녀와 나무꾼) is a Korean folktale about a kind woodcutter who helps a deer escape a hunter. In gratitude, the deer tells him how to marry a heavenly maiden by hiding her winged robe, which allows her to fly. The woodcutter follows the advice, marries the maiden, and they have children. However, one day, the maiden finds her hidden robe and returns to the heavens. The woodcutter is heartbroken but eventually ascends to the heavens with divine help, reuniting with his wife and living happily in the celestial realm.
So what can we learn from these simple folktales? As I said, it’s a stretch, but let’s see.
One of the most common themes in Korean folktales is the triumph of the underdog—characters who, despite overwhelming odds, overcome adversity through courage, wit, and perseverance. However, in Korean folktales, the underdog is a very particular type of underdog. The story of "Heungbu and Nolbu" illustrates this perfectly. In the tale, Heungbu, the kindhearted and morally pure, but poor brother, is rewarded for his good deeds, while the greedy and cruel Nolbu faces the consequences of his selfishness. Heungbu is morally superior. His underdog status derives from the imposition of others, and his recovery derives from his higher moral attitude and hard work. Arguably, the narrative of the underdog is also deeply embedded in South Korea’s national identity.
This underdog mentality influences South Korea’s foreign policy. In diplomatic engagements with larger powers like China, Japan, and the United States, both South and North Korea position themselves as resilient, morally superior, hard done by states that have earned their place on the global stage through hard work and ingenuity. They position themselves as underdogs, but morally superior underdogs who deserve justice.
The morally superior underdog mentality can be seen in both South and North Korea’s arguments in support of securing nuclear weapons. In each state’s narrative, the decision to pursue nuclear weapons is forced upon them. Both states have the desire to punch above their weight in global influence and both paint themselves as being forced into securing nuclear weapons. They are resilient, morally superior, hard done by states—much like Heungbu, who triumphs despite his humble beginnings.
Okay, we covered “Heungbu and Nolbu”, but the “The Sun and the Moon"? I don’t know where to start. We could maybe say harmony and balance are a central theme. This is a theme that runs through many Korean folktales, and academics spin this crap quite a lot. The brother and sister who, after facing great danger, ascend to the sky, becoming the sun and the moon, maintain balance in the world so it reflects the importance of harmony and the natural order. That’s academic b%^&$%t. Let’s face it, those kids were scheming.
So the tiger kills the mum and the kids end up escaping up a tree. Sure, that’s natural harmony. Shit happens. Now, the magical rope to heaven? That’s reinforcing the idea that you need secret, all powerful assistance from outside the day-to-day realm. It’s like using Plan A, then turning to Plan B, but still having a magical Plan C in the hat to save your ass. Now if this is not aligned to South Korea’s current long-term strategic plans, I’m giving up! South Korea has the US alliance (Plan A), is building up its indigenous conventional capacity and becoming a world leading arms exporter (Plan B), and it’s readying the jump to nuclear weapons (Plan C). Harmony and balance, my ass! This Folktale is about strategic long term planning!
Lastly, "The Woodcutter and the Heavenly Maiden". Once again, the textbooks on this folktale are pretty innocent, everything is nice, and the world is harmonious. It’s morals and lessons for all. They argue that the tale is about the theme of fate and destiny, where characters are guided by forces beyond their control. The woodcutter marries a heavenly maiden who descends to earth. Their lives are bound by fate, and despite their love, the maiden is eventually compelled to return to the heavens, leaving the woodcutter alone. Let’s get real.
The woodcutter used inside information to deceive the maiden, essentially forcing her to marry him, then when she found out and escaped, he used “divine help” to chase her back down. Now, he’s broken so many modern moral and legal codes (and he carries an ax everywhere) that he should be serving time. The only fate and destiny I can see in this is time in a cell. So what do people really learn from this?
Given recent stories about spying on friends between Korea and the US, we could perhaps argue that deceit in foreign policy is actually something to take away as an influence? When you consider both Korea’s multiple attempts to secure nuclear weapons, deceit was understandably a guiding concern. Woodcutter foreign policy is about achieving your aims regardless. It’s about recognizing that deceit is an uncontroversial and expected component - a very natural part of foreign policy.
Folktales do influence societies - that’s clear. They form the basis for our narrative introduction to society. I’m not sure how far they influence how societies perceive their place in the world. Reading them certainly does offer a unique lens through which to understand South Korea’s actions on the global stage. They remind us that, even in the realm of international politics, the tales we tell ourselves matter.