In 1910, in response to the Russian Empire’s southward expansion policy, Japan annexed Korea with the acquiescence of the United States, Great Britain and other great powers. Within Korea there was resistance to the annexation, and on March 1, 1919, this movement spread throughout the country. The Japanese authorities attempted to suppress it. Learning of the situation, Yanagi wrote this essay in the form of a letter to apologize for Japan’s action, to ask for restraint on both sides, and to express his esteem and admiration for Korean art and the Korean people. It was meant to be read by the general public. The essay was published in Japanese in the magazine Kaizo, but in heavily censored form. A partial English translation was carried in The Japan Advertiser, followed by one in Korea’s Dong-A Ilbo, but was discontinued after the April 20th and 21st issues. [The Japan Folk Crafts Museum]
It is with utmost sincerity that I write this letter to my Korean friends, both known and unknown. The kind and sympathetic feelings of the Japanese people for Korea demand that I do so. I would like to speak of things about which it is difficult to remain silent. I fervently hope that this letter will be accepted for what it is. If it should bring the hearts of the two peoples together, I would be elated beyond words. I hope that you will break your sad silence. People want a friend to whom they can speak of things of the heart. In particular, I feel among you a heartfelt desire for human intercourse. So thinking, how could I not take up my pen? When you receive this letter, please do not hesitate to reply. This is my sincere desire.
I
These days my mind is entirely occupied by thoughts of Korea. I cannot fathom why events have turned out as they have. I cannot find the words to explain my feelings. When I imagine the sadness and sorrow you must feel, I find my eyes welling with tears. I contemplate your fateful destiny. I contemplate the aberrant events of this world. Things that should not take place are, in fact, transpiring before our very eyes. I can find no peace of mind. When my thoughts turn to you, I share your torment and agony. I feel some unknown force calling out to me, a voice that cannot be ignored, a voice that has awakened in me a love for all humankind. This voice draws me strongly towards you. I cannot remain silent. Why am I not allowed to grow closer to you? When affection arises in the blood, heart wishes to speak to heart. If possible, I would like to extend to you a warm hand. In this world of ours, this is only a natural human act, as I believe you will agree.
Human beings have an inborn love of human life; hatred and conflict cannot, I believe, be humankind’s innate nature. However, owing to various immoral motives, countries turn against one another; people grow apart. The impetus of evil leads to arrogant hegemony. But this aberrant development goes against nature, and cannot continue forever. Every mind, every heart, yearns for a return to nature and peace. If all returned to what is natural, all would experience a greater degree of love. Now, however, unnatural forces rend us asunder.
There is the teaching ‘Love thy neighbour’, but before this adage appeared in the world, there was a natural, innate human feeling of wanting to love. ‘Love’ is not admirable and profound because it has been propounded by the wise; it is profound because it is based on natural human feeling. If people could only live based on their innate humanity, how much better the world would be! What is most commendable and laudable in this world is not, in my opinion, authority or intelligence, but commonplace human feeling. Now, however, for various reasons, common feeling is being trampled on, and money and military might are considered the pillars of life: to the extent, in fact, that the old adage might be revised to ‘Hate thy neighbour’. Countries are constantly preparing for war with one another. How can this inhuman turn of events possibly lead to lasting freedom and happiness? Rather, it simply grows more rampant, dividing one heart unwillingly from another. When I think of the history of Korea, its successive eras of military oppression and suppression, the crushing of its natural humanity, my eyes fill with tears.
Korea is now in the sad throes of a profound agony. Its flag is not flying proudly; in spring the plum trees refuse to bloom. The unique culture of Korea fades further into the past, disappearing from its place of birth. The vestiges of Korea’s unparalleled history will now be chronicled only in books. People pass by in the streets with bowed heads, torment and loathing written on their faces. Even their voices are low and indistinct, and they shun the sunlight, gathering in shadowy places. What force has brought about this change? Seeing the darkness that shrouds you, body and soul, I cannot help being moved; there are times, I am sure, when you shed tears of blood. People can manage to bear up under normal troubles and travails, but life is unsustainable when love and freedom have ceased to exist. Unfortunately, it is not only you who are suffering. Throughout the world countless people are desperately seeking love and freedom, leaving their homelands behind, aimlessly wandering the earth. All people, regardless of who they are, want to breathe the air of freedom. They yearn for the warmth of human kindness. Thinking of this, thinking of such forlorn people, I feel an irrepressible sympathy well up in my heart for you. In the past, has there ever been a country whose politics were based on common humanity? Has there ever been a military conflict that was based on love? Conflict generally lacks morality; it invariably lacks religion. When the people confront this realization, they descend into despair and distress. As for myself, it is my heartfelt hope that Japan be a country that is based on rectitude and humanity. If Japan should become proud of engaging in inhuman deeds, then it must forfeit any claim to religious feeling. Now, unfortunately, the relations between Japan and Korea cannot be said to have a moral basis. Much less can they be said to be based on religious love. In fact, disreputable and heinous acts are often carried out in the name of the nation. Nations do not always abide by the truth; instead, truth is manipulated and distorted. Unnatural forces walk the streets unashamedly in the light of day. But while most people are aware of these crimes being committed in the name of the nation, they overlook them as being unavoidable incidents in an imperfect world. However, if a whole nation should suffer in consequence, these deeds are shameful for the offending nation and deplorable in the eyes of the world. There is no reason why a righteous Japan should not refrain from such deeds. It is our perennial hope that Japan can be raised up to the level of truth. Even though I have not committed the deed myself, when a case occurs in which Japan does something unjust, I feel the need as a Japanese to offer my apologies. I feel the need to ask God’s forgiveness. It is difficult for me to see Japan, a country blessed by the gods, looked upon as morally wicked. For the glory of the country, I would like to see Japan elevated to a higher plane through the power of religion. Even though I might not have witnessed them personally, my heart is rent when I hear of the deplorable deeds carried out among your people. In face of the fact that you are forced to remain silent as you confront this fate, I am at a loss for the words to express my feelings. I can only whisper an appeal for forgiveness: ‘If Japan is truly in the wrong, there will surely come a day when individual Japanese will rise up in your support. The true Japan does not desire cruelty or atrocity. At the very least, it is my fervent hope that the Japan of the future will be a protector and defender of humanity and the humane.’ I hope it is not too much to ask that you believe in my sincerity.
Recently, with each passing day, we two peoples grow further apart. It seems strange, indeed, that the desire to come closer together should be transformed into hatred and estrangement. Some profound force must come into being that transforms loathing back into natural love. I am fully aware that Japan as a mighty nation is incapable of achieving such harmony, but Japan as a humane society can, I feel. This cannot be done by force, however. What will bring peace to the world are the tender feelings of the heart. I sincerely believe that you, as warm-hearted human beings, will be able to soften your hearts once again. I have no idea how Japan will attempt to resolve this conflict. And I may be only one individual, but I hope you will accept my love and affection as a living force within your hearts. While it is true that not many Japanese are proclaiming their thoughts, I know full well that there are many, like myself, who are genuinely concerned. Most of all, I hate to think of Japan as regarding Korea’s fate with cold, unfeeling eyes.
How many unjustifiable contradictions there are in this world that remain unresolved! What if – I can’t help thinking – Japan were placed in Korea’s position? It is likely that Japan, in the name of patriotism and adhering to the call of loyalty to nation, would fly the flag of defiance even higher. We have always held righteous acts in high regard. To now fault your love of country would be an indefensible contradiction. While truth should be universal and unchanging, there are times when the selfsame act is called ‘loyalty’, other times when it is called ‘treason’. How numerous such cases are in this world of ours! How numerous the people who, as a consequence, must live in dark shadows! Whenever I think of your situation, when I think of the ‘dark forces’ that have placed you there, I feel a wound open in my heart. Sometimes this wound is due to the violence of my emotions, sometimes due to deep depression. I know that your hearts must be painfully oppressed. In what, I wonder, do you seek consolation? What are your thoughts on your present fate? There must be little rest even in your dreams. I pray in my heart of hearts that you will find at least a modicum of peace.
I still retain high hopes for humankind. Someday human beings will come to realize what is right. It is my hope that one day Japan will stand on moral principles. For this should be the ideal embraced by all countries, regardless of time or place. I have no doubt that Japan will one day embrace truth as a pillar of its existence. Young Japanese, I know, are striving toward this goal. Please do not disregard this effort by your fellow beings. It is not wrong, according to my observations, to say that there is hardly a single Japanese who harbours animosity toward Koreans on an individual level. Rather, through the medium of handicrafts, we have always held a high regard for the excellent qualities of the Korean people. Even during the war with Russia, we daily studied and learned much from Russian thought and literature. When two countries part ways, it is not due to individual ill will. We must never forget that our friends in neighbouring countries are also our comrades in common humanity. The least that can be said is that the young people responsible for building the future of Japan are not unprincipled, cold-hearted individuals.
If Japan should grow arrogant in its military might, there will immediately appear among its citizens those who support your cause. I believe in the basic goodness of humanity. I have faith in the Japanese people as human beings. Human beings do not take pleasure in wrongdoing. They do not turn a cold eye on tragedy and unhappy events. Conflict and oppression are not what they seek. The present world has given rise to perverse movements, causing unintended unhappiness in our daily lives. But what people genuinely want, I believe, is a life that is rich in joy and filled with human warmth. Even if a dark age should come upon us, it cannot change human nature. Natural forces are always there as a firm support, with the power to revitalize and renew. Now, however, country vies against country, people turn against one another. If only people from different countries could be open with one another, what happiness that would bring. Friendship among strangers is especially precious. This is the happiness that human beings seek. In this regard, I firmly believe that the Korean and Japanese peoples will always be as one.
The Korean people and the Japanese people are like blood brothers, whether in terms of history, geography, race, or language. I don’t consider the present situation to be natural or inevitable. I don’t believe that the present relationship should continue forever as it is. It is a universal law of nature that the unnatural should be weeded out and die. I sincerely look forward to the day when this unnatural relationship will be corrected. Korea, which is a blood brother, cannot and should not be treated as a virtual slave. This is not because it brings undeserved dishonour to Korea, but because it brings deep disgrace to Japan. I don’t believe that Japan will thoughtlessly dismiss this disgrace. Rather, I believe in the future of the country. I believe in Japan’s humanity. Young, spirited Japanese feel it their duty to raise Japan to a higher level of truth. I would like you to join me in believing in them. By trusting in the goodness of human nature, together we can renew our hopes for the future.
If a government policy is enacted that contravenes common humanity, that policy cannot expect a long life. No matter how powerful a force might be, it cannot defy the will of God. If it did, its eventual fate would be to collapse from within. Given basic human nature as conferred by God, human beings are called upon to be a benefactor to all living things. All people, all nations, who do not follow this principle will be disgraced and dishonoured in the end. When there is a country that is oppressed unjustly, righteous feelings will eventually arise, and people will stand side by side with the oppressed. This type of heroism, this bravery, born of fundamental human decency, will never die. Those who oppress, rather than those who are oppressed, are closer to eventual extinction. The oppressed will surely win friends and allies, and the oppressors will surely be punished by the laws of nature. Jesus said that those who live by the sword will die by the sword. The rule of evil will not last long in this world.
Here I would like to humbly ask for a moment of reflection. Just as our injuring you in the slightest way with our military sword is a great evil, I cannot help noting the harm inherent in the path of bloody rebellion. What does it mean to kill, to fight to the death? It clearly means to go against the laws of heaven, to contravene common humanity. It is cruelty incarnate, the most unnatural act imaginable. It can never, ever, be the right path to harmony. How could murder ever lead to harmony? We must always lend an ear to our better nature, which tells us to love one another. Why can we not live naturally in accordance with our finer human inclinations? What does it mean to engage in conflict, to war against one another, even when it goes against our natural human feelings? Even the ancient Chinese philosopher Laozi (6th–5th century BC), who plumbed the depths of nature, spoke out against war in the Daodejing.
Here again I would ask you to reflect. If military might and the politics of hatred are degradations of the human spirit, it follows that Korea must not establish itself upon such power and strength. I do not revere military strength or its politics in the least. That is not what brings countries together. That is not what unites individuals. From the ancient past, have there ever been two countries that have established amicable relations by following this path? Peace based on military force and political machination is nothing but a relationship based on temporal convenience. Or if not that, it is peace brought about by compulsion. I don’t want Korea and Japan to descend into this kind of relationship. But you, too, must not trust in the use of force and its politics. No matter what the country, the politics of force does not bring comfort to the human heart. What brings honour and credit to a country is not its politics or military might; rather it is religion, the arts, and philosophy. If there exists a political system that can be truly trusted, it is that propounded by Plato and Confucius. Unfortunately, however, the modern day fears the voices of such wise men. We, however, must believe that the teachings of the ancients were meant to lead us to a greater end. I fervently hope that Korea will establish itself on a spiritual foundation. This represents an ideal for which we Japanese must also strive.
Undoubtedly you have now lost all trust in politicians, but I ask that you not lose trust in all human beings. There are still those who seek the warmth of true love and genuine peace, rejuvenated by the eternal laws of nature. No matter how cold the world becomes, nature will continue to send forth the buds of life. No matter how hard-pressed Korea is by the forces of the sword, human beings will, I am convinced, stand steadfastly by your side. I firmly believe that one day Korea will be a country warmly cloaked in human kindness. No matter how filled with carnage the world becomes, the warmth of human kindness will never perish. You may say, given the cruelties of your past history, that it is impossible for you to place your trust in anyone. Still, just once more, I would like you to evoke basic human nature in your sad, forlorn voices. Ah, how I would like to be a part of that new age! How I would like to take your hand in friendship! Yet, as soon as you see me, will you think, ‘Oh, another deceiving Japanese’, and reject my advances? Still, I will not give up until my face shows the sincerity I feel, until it is clear that I am different from some other Japanese. I truly believe that you yearn for genuine human contact. What sincerity I possess will surely bring us more closely together. If we should not come closer, that is not due to any fault of yours; it is because my feelings of sincerity are lacking. In that event, I must purify my thoughts and try once again.
Japan does not yet fully possess a human heart. Yet I believe that eventually a young, more spiritual Japan will one day overcome the rule of the sword and brute force. When that day arrives, Japan and Korea will establish relations on the basis of true friendship. Speaking for myself, I intend to work relentlessly towards that joyous day. I can’t believe that evil will triumph over good. Rather, I believe in the inner strength of human beings, in the power of truth. I believe that the path of righteousness will emerge triumphant in the end. I am convinced, moreover, that the laws of nature, in all their beauty, will be fulfilled. I am convinced that the power of love far exceeds the power of the sword. I believe that tenderhearted humanity will prove a staunch guardian of peace. Even though corruption may run rampant, I still believe that religion is the force that rules the universe. I further believe that art calms the human spirit and makes the world more beautiful. Conflict cannot be the basis of life. It is common human feeling in search of love that creates our true abode on this planet. In the inner recesses of the human heart, I believe, there is a deep yearning for human warmth that cannot be obliterated.
Here I will attempt to make my thoughts and feelings a little clearer. First, I entreat you to refrain from judging all human beings solely on the basis of current politics and military oppression. Basic human nature far surpasses these terrible conditions in its profound yearning for true peace and human kindness. Sadly, Japan cannot yet call itself a strong supporter of the true and just. (In fact, how many countries could make such a claim?) Still, you should know that the Japanese are not at heart a people that can look upon tragedy or malevolence with nonchalant unconcern. You should know that the Japanese are a people who devote considerable thought and energy to questions of human relations and the right way to live. Further, you should know that when encountering injustice, they recognize it as injustice and reflect seriously on its causes and effects. Many of us are earnestly attempting to defend and shield what should be the true destiny of humankind. These protectors and guardians among us are your allies in your time of trouble. I say this not as mere speculation. I am on intimate terms with many people who feel the same.
Last year, when I published the article Chosen-jin o omou (Thinking about the Korean People) in the Yomiuri Shinbun, I received a great number of letters from Japanese I was previously unacquainted with but who expressed agreement with my views. In the future, when true understanding is established between Korea and Japan, you will come to realize the depth of our affection for Korea. For Japan to love Korea, and for Korea to love Japan, what a natural emotion this is! I am convinced that one day the knowledge that we are truly blood brothers will give rise once again to natural instinctive love. You may doubt this. You may find it difficult to believe. But it remains my fervent hope.
II
I do not possess a detailed knowledge concerning Korea. Neither am I deeply experienced regarding its current situation. Despite such reservations, however, I am not entirely without qualification to express my views. For some time now I have revered Korean art and have felt toward it a certain kinship. There is no other art that has opened my eyes and heart as that created by your forebears. I know of no other art that is so sensitive to human feeling. Gazing upon this art, I feel as though I am seeing directly into your souls. This is not a matter of historical curiosity but a matter of one heart speaking to another. Therein I can see your perspective on nature and humanity. I can see the purity of your soul, its warmth as well as its sadness and its cry for help. Thinking back, the reason I have such feelings of affection for Korea and the Korean people is due to the impact of its art. Beauty knows no borders. Beauty is where heart and heart meet. It is where human happiness mingles, where you can hear voices speaking in friendly tones. Art connects one heart with another; it is a meeting place of love. Art knows no conflict; it makes us forget our petty selves. It is where we make our home in the heart of others. Beauty is love. The art created by the Korean people is precisely this art of human feeling, and it is that which moves me. How often I have quietly sat beside it, engaged in endless conversation.
There is no other art that calls for human affection as this does. It is an art that yearns for human kindness, that longs to live in love. It has been permeated by aeons of cruel history, by ages of forlorn sadness. It is the beauty of sorrow, evoking lonely tears. Looking upon it, I feel my breast grow full. No other art is permeated by such pathos. It is a call for human kinship, for human warmth.
What has been your past history, what your philosophy of life? Given your geographical location and neighbouring countries, it must have been difficult to maintain long periods of peace. Carrying in your bodies the quiescent blood of the Orient, nourished by the teachings of Buddhism, you must have viewed any other way of life as an impossible dream. You built the fanes of your heart in quiet woods and isolated mountain villages, perfect places for a cloistered life, loneliness consoling loneliness. You adored the quiet figure of the merciful bodhisattva Kannon. The ceramics of the Goryeo kingdom (918–1392) proved a means of coming into daily contact with humanity. And this does not apply simply to foregone times. Even during the Joseon kingdom (1392–1897), utilitarian objects retained this comforting quality. Whatever you created or did, whatever could be seen or touched, all had a sense of quiet grief. These sorrowful objects, handled on a daily basis, became your comforting friends; you spent your days consoling and being consoled. They were objects filled with tender feelings. I can now picture them in my mind’s eye as if they were actually before me. In the seemingly limitless flow of their lines, they represent a cry from the heart. How much unspeakable bitterness and sorrow, how much unrequited longing, is concealed in the flow of these lines? They are an expression of the fundamental nature of the country and its people. It was not form or colour but line that proved the most suitable means of expressing feeling. Without solving the mystery of line, it is impossible to come to a true understanding of Korean art. It is line that vividly chronicles the pathos of life and the trials and tribulations of history. Its quiet, covert beauty still conveys to us today the heartfelt beauty of the Korean people. Whenever I gaze at the porcelain sitting on my desk, I feel I can see the tears of its maker shadowed in its quiet glaze.
Now and then these artworks speak to me. ‘Life is sad and solemn. Our country has suffered a long, troubled history, but no one recognizes the agony we have been through. There is no friend to whom we can open our hearts. The only thing we can do is to meditate on our troubles and express our feelings in the works we make. It is these works that are our faithful friends. Oh, later generations! Place these objects by your side! In their silence they yearn for human companionship. Handle these objects with affection and warm your hearts. It was for this that they were made.’ Ah, when I hear this low, whispery voice emerge from the depths of these objects, how can I not reach out and touch them?
Sometimes a forlorn spectral figure appears before me and says: ‘O people of foreign lands! How can you subject us to such horrendous treatment? For you, is our tragic fate a source of amusement?’ Whenever I hear this anguished cry, my heart is rent in two. ‘Why, oh, why don’t you send us love instead?’ asks another spectral figure. ‘Why, when we are starving for human affection, why do you refuse to answer with human affection?’ I hear another voice say: ‘O people of Japan, our brothers in blood! Why do you not send us brotherly love? Were we not born of the same mother, nourished by the same legends – don’t we have the same reminiscences of the past? Did we not send Buddhist monks bearing sutras to you, as well as Buddhist statues, and lay the foundation stones for temples in the ancient Japanese capital of Asuka? The culture of the Asuka period (593–710), its religion and its arts, were a gift from us to you, much of which can still be seen today in its original glory. Why can this history not be repeated? Why now do you trample on our cultural relics? Why do you betray our longtime friendship? Who can claim this will bring honour to Japan?’ When I am pressed for an answer to these questions, I find myself at a loss for the words to reply.
When I gaze upon these objects, they seem to be bowing in silent prayer. ‘O Lord. Allow our souls to rise to Your place of abode. Comfort us in our troubles. Permit us to be consoled in Your comforting bosom.’ Their long, flowing lines seem to be offering up this prayer. Hearing such voices, how could I possibly detach myself from these objects, remove them from my side? Oh, no. Rather, unthinkingly I reach out to them with my hands, to warm them with my touch.
Since coming back from a trip to Korea four years ago, in 1916, not one of these objects has ever left my room. At any moment they seem as if they might want to talk to me. I could not possibly store them away in some cold, dark place. When I place them on my desk, they seem to be pleased. They are always there waiting for me. How could I not reciprocate that feeling? Their beautiful forms draw me to them. When I gaze upon them, when I touch them, I feel a meeting of spirits. They are my good friends, as I am theirs. When they look lonely and sad, I am also lonely and sad. When they seem happy to be at my side, I feel my heart fill with joy. We walk down a path of sadness and happiness together.
These artworks are full of friendly feeling. They yearn for affection, call out to the heart, pine for the human touch. How could I possibly not respond? I am here, I say, whispering to them in my heart of hearts. To those who crafted these objects I say: ‘Rest in peace’. As long as the objects begotten by your hand are in my room, they and I will forever be inseparable. I will never be alone; neither will they. They were made to bring ease to loneliness. I will not leave them in isolation, unbefriended. I know of no other art that is as friendly and approachable. It is a beauty born of human feeling. The word ‘intimacy’ perfectly expresses its character. Thinking thus, how could I not feel an intimacy with the Korean people today, who share the same blood with these creators of beauty? Somehow, and soon, I must set to rights the present estranged relationship.
However, my appreciation of Korean art does not end with intimacy. I hold its intrinsic beauty in the highest regard. Together with its intimate character, its beauty is an amazing phenomenon. Although Korea has suffered a long, tragic history, in terms of art it ranks as a lord paramount. No person could possibly gainsay that fact. The poets say that art is long, life is short. But the life that appears in Korean art is eternal and absolute, its beauty deep and fathomless, virtually inexhaustible. Deep down in its innermost being resides a mysterious essence. It is art worthy of display in a sacred temple of worship. While Korea may be outwardly weak, artistically it is strong in its innermost being. It is a majestic, autonomous country, without equal or rival.
Some people say that without the influence of China there could be no Korean art. Or they conclude that without the greatness of China, there would be nothing identifiably Korean. Even qualified specialists occasionally hold this view. But in my opinion this is nothing but a self-deluding dogmatism, an uninformed misconception. Of course, there is no denying Chinese influence, even in the case of Japan. But how is it possible for Chinese feeling to be transcribed as-is into Korean feeling? Given the extraordinariness of Korea’s spiritual past and its insight into beauty, how could it merely duplicate Chinese works without change? Even admitting the existence of historical and external influences, there is an undeniable difference in terms of feeling and expression.
The aesthetic sense possessed by the Korean people is unique to that country. Just as its spiritual history is one of a kind, its artistic expression is unrivalled. Some critical historians refer to Korea’s historical political policy as a form of subservience to China, but that is not the case when it comes to art. Korean art, in its amazing beauty, possesses a magnificence that is subservient to no other. Take the Pekje-style statues housed in Horyu-ji in Japan. They are in no way inferior to Chinese statuary, and they are not copies or facsimiles. They are called national treasures of Japan, but in fact they should rightly be termed national treasures of Korea. Let us look at the Korean temple Seokbulsa in Gyeongju (8th century). The Buddhist statues there are undoubtedly influenced by the statuary of the Tang dynasty of China, but they are not overt copies or simple emulations. They possess a beauty that is undeniably Korean. I will never forget the day I first visited the grotto of this temple. It was a treasure trove of the depth and mystery intrinsic to Korean art. Some people say that the ceramics of the Goryeo kingdom are nothing but copies of those from the Chinese kilns of the Song dynasty (960–1279). However, if you tentatively alter the flow of a single line, the beauty of Goryeo is immediately lost. Art is the expression of delicate nuances, unalterable in its essential thusness. The beauty of Goryeo is not the same as the beauty of Song. In the materials used, in the techniques employed, there may be some similarities, but there is an unequivocal difference in the beauty produced. The fine beauty of line seen in Goryeo porcelain cannot be found in the works of the Song kilns. This fine Goryeo line is an integral part of the piece itself, and any alteration, no matter how small, would rob the piece of its true Korean-ness. The same applies to Korea’s Joseon kingdom. What is it that sets off Joseon porcelain from that of China’s Min kingdom (909–45)? Where lies the beauty of the porcelain of the Joseon kingdom, which was a subservient state to the Min? It lies in its fundamental being, in its vibrant essence. Korean art is incomparable, unique and original; it cannot be violated or defiled. It cannot be unerringly copied or emulated, no matter how skilled the craftsman. It is a beauty made possible only after being filtered through the Korean heart and soul. For the honour and glory of Korea I want to make this absolutely clear: the magnificence of Korean art is sure proof of the Korean people’s amazing insight into the secrets of beauty. And this beauty is not of the roughly made or unsophisticated sort; neither does it consist in some overwhelmingly powerful design. Rather, it is the product of a fine, delicate sensibility. There is not the slightest doubt in my mind concerning the keen aesthetic sensitivity of the Korean people. Through their art I can’t help but feel a deep admiration for the people who created it. This admiration is, I am sure, shared by many. This feeling, this admiration and respect, must long continue to be cherished throughout the years to come. As it now happens, however, these artistically gifted people are being compelled by malicious forces to relinquish their unique heritage. I cannot stand quietly by while this deprivation to the world of art is taking place. It is reverence for art that brings countries closer together. It is art that makes the world beautiful. In the distant past it was Korea that first shed the light of civilization on Japan through its religion and art. Today we should memorialize this fact with a sense of gratitude. It is only right, I think, that Japan should recognize the crucial role that Korea has played in its history. Korea’s unique place in the world’s art should not be forgotten. As long as the Korean people exist, their art will be repeatedly reborn. To destroy the art of a country, to oppress the creators of that art, is to commit the worst possible of crimes.
A great deal of time has passed since we Japanese first came to admire Korean art, and now its market value has risen remarkably. However, even among the scholars specializing in Korean art there are precious few who have moved from an understanding of the essence of the art to an appreciation of the uniqueness of Korean culture as a whole. Why should the art be lauded but not the people who created it? Although the times have changed, there can be no fundamental change in the people themselves. Even if conditions are different now from what they were in the past, the essential nature of the people is the same. The reason that more recent Korean art has not emerged is simply due to a lack of available time. Here we Japanese must bear some responsibility. It is my hope that Korea will once again produce beautiful art. My recent acquaintance with two or three artists feeds this hope. If it has been one of the fortunate missions of us Japanese to create museums for ancient Korean works of art, why is it that we have not given proper respect to the artists of the future? To respect and revere the Korea of the past but not to respect the Korea of the future is nothing less than an insult to past Korea. Absolute respect for the past must encompass trust in the future. I feel grateful that the amazing art of the past has taught me to have high hopes for the art of the present. One reason the Japanese administrators of Korea are incapable of understanding the country from the inside is their total lack of education in religion and art. Two countries cannot bond from within by military force and politics alone. What brings genuine peace and understanding to the world is religious belief and living art. This is of paramount importance. Only through these can human beings find their true home. In such a world there is no ill will, no betrayal. If we wish to uproot the sources of conflict and misfortune from among us, we must establish firm bonds through religion and art. It is this power that will set us on the path to true understanding and loving affection. Although people may say that this is merely an ideal, they should recognize that, in fact, it is the only, the most direct route to amicable relations. Without a moment’s hesitation we must do what we can to accomplish this goal.
I do not put much faith in the self-styled ‘intimate’ experience of Japanese living in Korea. Without entering into the spiritual life of the country, this experience only scrapes the surface; it does not guarantee true understanding. Japanese in Korea possess little religious feeling and are lacking in artistic insight. Most have lost sight of the fact that Koreans are our brothers and sisters; in their pride as conquerors they look down upon you. If they were rich in religious feeling, they would not hesitate to pay you the respect you deserve. If they had an inkling of what generations of Korean people have sought in their art throughout the Joseon dynasty, their attitude would undoubtedly undergo an immediate transformation. We are often visited by foreign missionaries who come labouring under the delusion that they are members of a superior race, and I can’t help but feel that the Japanese are suffering from the same delusion. Yet how can there be friendship where the virtues of respect and humility have been lost? How can there be an exchange of love and affection? The animosity that Koreans hold for Japan is only natural, I think, and Japan must take responsibility for the upheaval it has caused. Japanese administrators in Korea are trying to assimilate Korean culture, but given Japan’s own imperfections, what right do they have to do this? Nothing can be stranger or more lacking in persuasiveness. In atonement for its policy of assimilation, Japan has no choice but to accept its result, which is resistance. Just as some people dismissed offhandedly the idea that Japan should be Christianized, you will surely dismiss the idea that Korea should be Japanized. And neither should Korea’s beauty and the freedom of its hearts and minds be violated by any external force. No, it is perfectly clear that it is eternally impossible for such violation to take place. True solidarity does not come from assimilation. It can only come from mutual respect exercised by independent entities.
As a sign of my respect for the Korean people I plan to hold a concert this May in Gyeongseong, donating the proceeds to the aid and support of Korean culture. I hope you will find it acceptable as a token of my feelings of admiration and affection, as a sign of my belief in the genius of the Korean people. Having often heard of your keen sensitivity in the realm of music, I hope you will find this concert to your liking. Taking advantage of this event, my wife and I are eagerly awaiting the opportunity to meet with you once again. If this should provide the smallest occasion for a meeting of minds, how rewarding that would be! According to one newspaper, the purpose of our trip is to ‘educate’ the Korean people. This is a complete misunderstanding of our goal, an unbelievably superficial view of our real purpose. In my eyes ‘assimilation’ and ‘education’ are stupid, idiotic policies of the worst sort. I would love to delete these words from all Japanese–Korean dictionaries. My dear Korean friends, both those known and unknown, please don’t think of me as an exception. Please believe that I have many principled friends who are sincere in their yearning for righteousness and common human decency. Young Japanese have not forgotten the need to stand guard at the gates of the Kingdom of Truth; they are already your allies. We readily acknowledge you as our close friends. I firmly believe that our bonding is nature’s intent. Future civilization will surely owe much to this union of Oriental cultures. In order to present the West with the gift of Oriental truth, in order to eventually forge a union of East and West, the countries of the East must first form closer relationships. Particularly in the case of Korea and Japan, which are connected by blood, there should be a greater sense of affinity and natural affection. Eventually this feeling of friendship must extend to India and China. I hope you will join me in believing that this type of union will be deeply significant for future civilization. This is not just a figment of the imagination. It is, I believe, the voice of nature calling out to us. My thoughts go out to you, far over the sea. I don’t doubt that you will recognize the sincerity of these feelings. We Japanese must also answer the voice of nature. We must join together to live in mutual understanding and common humanity. It is such natural human feelings that bring genuine peace and happiness. It is there that truth will be upheld and beauty come vividly to life.
I think of you, my Korean friends. I think of your fate. I think of your integrity. If, by delivering this letter into your hands, my heart should touch yours, that would be a source of immense happiness. And if you should appreciate my heartfelt feelings, my happiness would be multiplied. In our world today it is such things that bring pure bliss. I believe in my heart that an otherworldly power will bring this about.
With these thoughts in mind, accompanied by my prayers for your happiness, I will now lay my pen aside.
