Korean film revives tragic – and fading – memory
In a controversial retelling, 'May 18' looks at the Kwangju crackdown in 1980 by South Korea's military dictatorship.
from the July 9, 2007 edition
Page 3 of 3
There is no doubt, though, of the brutality of the troops in an uprising that ended in scenes of clubbing, bayoneting, and shooting that reminds one of the slaughter on Tiananmen Square in Beijing after students took over the heart of the Chinese capital in 1989.
As I visited Kwangju while rebels held the city, a student in the governor's building asked to see my passport and logged in details before giving me a "press card" that I carried in my wallet for years. Another student, in fluent English, hurled imprecations against the regime's evils.
I had returned to Seoul, writing stories about the rebels' defiance, when the troops finished them off. When I went back to Kwangju just a few days later, pine coffins were strewn around the building. Older people, wearing dark suits and dresses, walked quietly among them, lifting up lids, looking for loved ones. I never again saw the people I had interviewed.
Surprisingly, the film avoids incantations against the Americans – indicative perhaps of decreasing anti-Americanism.
"I'm sure the US has a lot of influence," says director Kim, "but I felt if I emphasized the US role, it would interrupt the flow of the film."
The film also avoids politics. There is no mention of Kim Dae Jung and little of Chun except as a distant figure from whom came word to snuff out revolt. News photos of the time record some of the clubbing and bodies of the victims.
Now the memory of victims lives on in rows of more than 200 gravesites by a monument on the edge of town. When I last visited, I was startled to find in the museum by the cemetery a blown-up photograph of myself in a clinic standing by a wounded rebel. I hadn't known about the picture until it showed up in a book.









