“대자보, 젊은이들의 분노 표출” 기명 칼럼 게재
프랑스의 <르몽드>에 이어 미국 유력 일간지 <뉴욕타임스>도 한국의 ‘안녕들하십니까’ 대자보 열풍을 소개했다.
6일 <뉴욕타임스>는 인터넷판 오피니언란에 “한국의 쟁점을 다루는 매체”라는 제목으로 김영하 소설가의 기명칼럼을 실었다.
김씨는 이 칼럼에서 ‘안녕들하십니까?’ 대자보 열풍현상을 소개하며 국정원과 국가기관의 대선개입 의혹사건, 밀양 송전탑 문제, 민영화 반대 철도파업 등 각종 뜨거운 정치적 이슈들에 관해 젊은이들의 분노가 표출된 것으로 진단했다.
김씨는 “정치적 대자보는 1970년대와 1980년대 한국 어디에서나 쉽게 눈에 띄는 것이었고 정치적 견해를 표현하는 몇 안 되는 창구의 하나”라며 “대부분의 대자보는 쓴 사람의 이름이 없이 밤 사이에 붙여졌다. 때론 대학 당국과 경찰이 벽에 붙은 대자보를 떼어내곤 했다”고 설명했다.
그는 “1990년대 초 민주정부가 자리 잡은 후에도 대자보는 지속적으로 공개장소에 나타났으나, 시대에 뒤떨어지고, 그저 낙서에 불과한 것으로 느껴지기 시작했다”면서 인터넷의 보편화로 온라인으로 ‘대자보’의 역할이 옮겨갔음을 설명했다.
김씨는 다시 등장한 대자보의 열풍을 “보다 원초적인 형태의 표현법으로 돌아왔다”며 “가명 혹은 무명으로 자기들이 말하고자 하는 어떤 내용이든 게시할 수 있는 온라인 문화에 대한 반발 정도로 볼 수 있다”고 분석했다.
또한 김씨는 칼럼 말미에 “사회 전환기인 이 시대의 가장 큰 비극은 나쁜 사람들이 지르는 귀에 거슬리는 아우성이 아니라 좋은 사람들의 무서운 침묵이었음을 역사는 기록해야 할 것이다”라는 마틴 루터 킹의 말을 인용한 대자보 내용을 소개하기도 했다. (☞‘뉴욕타임스’ 기사 원문 보러가기)
| 다음은 ‘정상추 네트워크’의 <뉴욕타임스> 기사 번역 전문. South Korea’s Hot-Button Medium BUSAN, South Korea — On Dec. 10, a handwritten, politically charged poster appeared on a bulletin board at Korea University in Seoul, one of the country’s top institutions of higher education. It began and ended with the same question: “How are you all doing?” This simple query hit a nerve. A photograph of the poster went viral on the Internet. Students across South Korea started posting their own political notices on campuses (and pictures of them, too, appeared online). High school students, office workers and housewives joined in, writing posters to air political grievances and posting them in public and on the web. Echoing the plain bureaucratic style of political placards from the military dictatorship of Park Chung-hee — who ran the country from 1963 until his assassination in 1979, and who was the father of the current president, Park Geun-hye — the Korea University poster made references to a hodgepodge of hot-button political issues: the more than 4,000 rail workers who were laid off under a national privatization plan; a villager from Bora in the southeast who committed suicide in an apparent protest of government land grabs that are part of a nuclear-development project; and the National Intelligence Service’s alleged interference in the 2012 presidential elections. Jeon Hyun-sik, 22, a student at Korea University, told The Hankyoreh daily newspaper that political posters usually urge people to do something. “But I was struck by how this one asked us how we’re doing,” he said. “I ended up thinking about myself and a lot of other things.” Another student, Lee Min-ji, a freshman in a Daejeon high school, criticized the television news in her poster, which went viral, asserting that it is slanted toward the government. A housewife’s poster at Korea University said that she was sorry she had taught her kids to focus so intently on making money. Handwritten political posters — often composed in an artless and unadorned style, usually just words on plain white paper — were ubiquitous in South Korea in the 1970s and 1980s and were one of the few outlets available for expressing political views. Most posters were anonymous and put up under the cover of night. From time to time, the university authorities and the police would clear off the walls. The posters continued to appear in public even after full civilian rule was established in the early 1990s, but they started to feel outdated, more like mere graffiti than anything else. When I was a graduate student in the early 1990s, posters still covered sections of the campus walls, but like most students I ignored them. Then along came the Internet. In the mid-1990s, web bulletin boards replaced handwritten posters, which began to disappear: People could hope for bigger ripple effects of their views online. There were no fresh facts, shocking revelations or radical opinions in the poster that suddenly appeared last month at Korea University. But it did expose the worries of frustrated and disaffected young people who feel they’ve been left behind by globalization. Economic concerns, like low salaries and high rents, are widespread. College students are angry about expensive tuition and dim employment prospects. Support for the rail workers, another common cause, reflects concerns among young people that the rail privatization plan will start a trend, leading to higher costs for utilities and health care as they too become privatized, and to the end of the era of the coveted permanent government job. The issue that seems to have most galvanized the poster writers is the scandal involving military and National Intelligence Service agents who carried out online campaigns during the 2012 presidential race to manipulate public opinion in favor of Park Geun-hye, who won the presidency by one million votes. Eleven officials in the Defense Ministry’s cyberwarfare unit are accused of spreading 2,100 messages praising Ms. Park. And, in a separate case, a team of N.I.S. agents is being tried for sending out millions of posts on Twitter and news websites in support of Ms. Park. The president has denied having had anything to do with the online campaigns, saying repeatedly that she had not benefited from them. The poster movement — a return to a more basic sort of expression — may best be seen as a backlash against an online culture that allows users to post whatever they want using false names or no names at all. Anonymity was once welcomed by political activists as a way to get opinions out in the open, but it has now come to be regarded as an obstacle to meaningful dialogue. Most of the new posters are signed by real people. Ju Hyun-u, 27, who wrote the first poster at Korea University, said in a radio interview that he believed his poster went viral, in part, because it was authentic: He had signed it. In the early 2000s, people expected that anonymity on the Internet would be positive for the development of democracy in South Korea. In a Confucian culture like South Korea’s, hierarchy can block the free exchange of opinions in face-to-face situations. The web offered a way around that. Internet portal services installed bulletin-board systems that allowed users to post opinions anonymously. For example, the popular service Agora was created as a forum for free — and often anonymous — exchanges. But South Koreans feel duped by the N.I.S. scandal and they partially blame anonymous commenting. It’s not yet known how much the poster movement will affect Ms. Park’s government. (The Kyunghyang Shinmun newspaper suggested a recent dip in the president’s approval ratings among young people could be a result of the handwritten poster wave, but there is no definitive data.) Regardless, the posters are getting politicians’ interest: Some even appeared in Congress, put up by both governing party and opposition members. Political posters don’t by any means play the same role as they did under the military dictatorship. Still, it’s important that they have served to tip off some of the public to the swelling frustration and anger of the country’s youth. Will the rest of the country get the message? We’ll have to wait and see. One poster, signed by “Sunhae and Jooyoung” and posted at Busan University, ended with an apt quote from Martin Luther King Jr.: “History will have to record that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition was not the strident clamor of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people.” Young-ha Kim is a novelist and short-story writer. |
