In “Harbin,” a new thriller based on true events, Japanese official Ito Hirobumi is told that he is targeted for assassination. But the four-time prime minister and first resident-general in Korea refuses to alter his travel plans to Harbin, China, for negotiations.

Dismissing the threat, he mutters, “Korea is a country that has been ruled by foolish kings and corrupt Confucian scholars for hundreds of years, but the people of that country are the greatest annoyance for me. Though having received little benefits, the people demonstrate strange powers every time there is a national crisis.”

The film was released for public viewing on Christmas Eve. Three weeks earlier, President Yoon Suk Yeol declared martial law, a self-coup attempt quashed by a bipartisan parliamentary vote within a few hours amid a nationwide groundswell of opposition.

Now, Ito’s observation resonates in the faces of thousands of citizens holding outdoor rallies in the depth of winter day after day, night after night. They are showing Yoon and his inner circle that democracy is untouchable. If Yoon realizes anything about his fellow citizens, he should know the protestors will not melt away until prosecutors serve him with an arrest warrant. He is seeing a repeat of the around-the-clock vigilance that had also been aimed at his predecessors.

The timing of the movie also juxtaposes neatly with the geopolitical climate of today. This year marks the 120th anniversary of the Protectorate Treaty that cleared the way to Japan’s annexation of Korea, the 80th anniversary of Korea’s liberation from Japanese rule and the 60th anniversary of the normalization of diplomatic relations between the two neighbors.

Incompetent leadership and political instability opened the doors of Korea to Japan at the turn of the 20th century. Now the government is squandering precious time in preparing for the return of Donald Trump, who rattled US-Korea relations during his first term as he expressed admiration for North Korean leader Kim Jong-un. Korea’s relations with Japan and China, as well as the economy and other domestic problems, are also not getting the full attention needed amid the leadership void. The situation threatens a paralysis that reverberates with the past.

Minutes after arriving at Harbin, controlled by Russia at the time, Ito was slain by three bullets fired by Korean freedom fighter Ahn Jung-geun. The architect of Japan’s imperial rise, Ito laid the groundwork for expansion into the Korean Peninsula. He had traveled to Harbin to negotiate with Vladimir Kokovtsov, then Russia’s powerful finance minister, on the future of Manchuria. After firing three more shots wounding accompanying Japanese dignitaries, Ahn shouted in Russian, “Long live Korea!”

A gripping thriller filled with striking vistas, the movie opens with a haunting scene of Ahn traversing the frozen Tuman River alone, an emblematic symbol of his inner struggle. Then follows the cause of his agony -- the messy hand-to-hand fighting of his fallen comrades engaging Japanese troops, all bathed in blood and dirt in the snowy mountains along the northern border.

The movie traces the months leading up to Ito’s assassination, reimagining the events driving Ahn and his fellow independence activists to their grand scheme. The movie omits the judicial procedures leading to Ahn’s execution, in which he categorically presented the reasons for his high-stake act.

In court, Ahn claimed to be a lieutenant general and commander of the Korean Independence Army and requested to be treated as a prisoner of war, not a criminal suspect, to be tried by international law, because the Protectorate Treaty was legally invalid. He insisted that he did nothing wrong in assassinating Ito for disrupting regional peace and committing 15 offenses against Korea that estranged Korea-Japan relations.

Ahn’s courage and leadership commitment is evidently something that is wanting among the so-called mainstream political and military elites in Korea today. Not a single Cabinet member nor military commander raised an effective objection to Yoon’s plot to use martial law to shelve the constitutional order and quell the opposition.

Yoon glaringly lacks honesty and integrity, let alone governing competence. He lied about his intentions in declaring martial law and details of his orders to the military. By refusing arrest he is flatly reneging on his pledge to “not avoid the legal and political responsibility” for causing chaos and concern with his ill-advised plot. He hides behind thick barricades of barbed wire and vehicles, hundreds of security service personnel and civilian supporters, while protestors stand in the cold and snow on a 24/7 watch.

Some of the young demonstrators are staying warm by wrapping themselves with tin foil thermal blankets. They call themselves “tin foil fairies” or “Kisses protesters,” borrowing the name of Hershey’s chocolates wrapped in a conical shape with aluminum foil.

The images of “tin foil fairies” rallying in solidarity on snowy streets somehow overlap with those of volunteer independence fighters in the snowy mountains, ready to throw themselves headlong into harm’s way on the promise of some remote triumph, from “Harbin.” A century apart, they are both those “people” who join hands to turn the wheel of history in brighter directions on behalf of the nation in crisis, sending alarms to enemies outside.

Lee Kyong-hee

Lee Kyong-hee is a former editor-in-chief of The Korea Herald. The views expressed here are the writer's own. -- Ed.


koreadherald@heradcorp.com