In hard times we want heroes. Struggling in a quagmire of relentless miseries, we desperately want heroes to materialize out of thin air and save us from our nightmarish dilemmas. Under oppression of the Roman Empire, for example, the Jewish people desperately hoped for the arrival of the Messiah who could deliver them from their miserable predicament. It is only natural that people await a superhero in times of crisis. 

Heroes, however, do not appear often. In our imaginations, therefore, we conjure up surrogates who can substitute the hero who is ever absent in the present reality. For example, the Great Depression produced two celebrated American heroes, Superman and Batman, who always came to the rescue in times of crisis.

In the 1930s, Americans loved tough guy novels and private eye movies. At a time when Americans did not believe in their government, comic book heroes and tough guys in film noir provided substitute heroes to people.

Koreans, too, adore heroes. In North Korea, for example, there are numerous statues of Kim Il-sung who is still worshipped as the everlasting hero, even though he has been dead for a long time. His son Kim Jong-il, too, was a greatly esteemed hero during his lifetime, and now his son, Kim Jong-un, the current leader of North Korea, has taken on the role. It seems that the hero-worship custom sustains the North Korean dictatorship; indeed, who can dare to revolt against a godlike figure?

South Korea is no exception. South Koreans also intensely want a messiah-like hero who appears out of the blue and incisively solves their problems once and for all. In one of Korea’s favorite poems, “The Wide Plain,” Poet Yi Yuk-sa wrote, “When a superman comes/ On a white horse down the myriad years/ Let him sing aloud my song on the wide plain.” Many Koreans memorize and chant this line, because it perfectly suits the Korean psyche that desires a messiah.

Since Yi’s poem was written during the Japanese occupation, it is assumed that “superman” signified a national hero who could liberate Korea from Japanese rule. Even today, Koreans seem to desire a superhero who can ride in on a horse to take care of our woes and the problems of our nation.

Perhaps this particular psychology explains why most South Koreans are so profoundly religious; God or Buddha can quench their thirst for a supernatural hero to believe in and rely on. In South Korea, even pseudo-messiahs leading unorthodox, pagan religions have numerous followers because there are many gullible people who seek a superhero to believe in. Do Koreans want a hero because they are unhappy with their present reality? Or does the desire for a superhero run in the Korean blood? It is hard to tell. Perhaps both reasons are true.

Currently, the Ahn Cheol-soo syndrome is sweeping the nation as the election season approaches. A famous computer anti-virus technician with a medical degree, Ahn is rapidly emerging as a rising star riding a dark horse in the Korean political arena. The Ahn syndrome also reflects the Korean psychology of wanting a hero who can put an end to all sorts of chronic problems in Korean society and politics, and steer the nation in the right direction. The younger generation especially seems to believe that Ahn, like a messiah, can wipe out political corruption and generate jobs. People are also drawn to him because unlike most political leaders who tend to be professional politicians, Ahn is an intellectual who may be able to upgrade the decency of our nation with his integrity and fresh vision. If he is elected, Ahn will become the first South Korean president to come from academia: a professor at Seoul National University, medical doctor and scientist.

Unfortunately, people’s high expectations are often let down. Each election season, Koreans desperately hope for a new superhero and end up deeply disillusioned afterward. In Korean history, some elected officials have turned out to be dictators, ruthlessly crushing the initial hopes of the people, and some have proved amateurish and incompetent, embarrassing our nation with frivolous talk, rash actions and clumsy policies.

Often the higher your expectation is, the more disillusioned you will become once reality kicks in. As Vico argues in “New Science,” the Age of Hero is over now. Yet, we do not seem to realize it.

Needless to say, it is important to have a competent leader who has a vision for the future. In the past, we have suffered too much at the hands of visionless political leaders who used their power simply to take revenge on their enemies of the past. Nevertheless, the Age of the Hero is over; we now live in the age of man. We should not fall into hero worship. No El Cid will magically come to rescue us. Cid declined to become king in order to save Spain from the invasion of the Moors. That age is over now.

By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. ― Ed.