[Essay Today] That Summer Night in Myeongdong

At 11:30 p.m. on June 12, 1987, someone knocked on the office door of Cardinal Kim Su-hwan, Archbishop of the Catholic Archdiocese of Seoul, at Myeongdong Cathedral. Cardinal Kim asked them, "You have come to notify me that police forces will be deployed tonight to arrest the students, haven't you?" The cardinal did not wait for an answer. "If the police enter the cathedral, they will meet me first. Next are the priests who are praying through the night, followed by the nuns. The students you want to arrest will be behind the nuns. If you want to arrest them, you must step over me first, then over the priests and nuns."

The 'National Rally to Condemn the Cover-up of Torture Murders and Abolish the Yushin Constitution' that began on June 10 was reaching a critical point. On June 9, Yonsei University student Lee Han-yeol was hit in the head by a tear gas canister during a protest and was in critical condition. Citizens were outraged. Wearing neckties, they shouted "Abolish the Yushin Constitution! Overthrow the dictatorship!" and poured into the streets. The police responded with a strong crackdown. The protesters, chased by tear gas, took refuge in Myeongdong Cathedral and began a sit-in. Three days had passed since then.

One month before the uprising began, on May 18, Cardinal Kim celebrated a special Monday Mass at Myeongdong Cathedral. The Catholic Church commemorated the 7th anniversary of the Gwangju Democratic Uprising and Park Jong-cheol, who died from police torture, during this Mass. In his sermon that day, the cardinal foretold what was to come and what needed to be done. He confessed, "Forgive the sin of closing our eyes, deafening our ears, and turning away," and urged, "As priests, let us bear the cross of salvation for this era with our whole lives." His appeal moved not only the faithful but also the conscience of society.

"When God asked Cain, who killed his brother Abel, Cain replied, 'Am I my brother's keeper?' denying responsibility. This question from Genesis is being posed to us today. 'Where is your son, your citizen Park Jong-cheol?' 'He fell silently after a sudden slap on the desk; I do not know.' ... 'Isn't it possible that sacrifices happen by mistake while working for the country?' This is Cain's answer."

The successive deaths of Park Jong-cheol and Lee Han-yeol were a bouquet of lives offered at the altar of democracy. Though the flowers withered, they planted the resolve in citizens' hearts to protect even the smallest candle. The young sacrifices gave South Korea’s media a chance for confession. "Where is Cain?" was a demand to answer "Who killed Park Jong-cheol?" The press had to respond. Journalist Kim Joong-bae’s column stirred readers’ hearts.

"Heaven, earth, and people, please gaze upon that death. Please protect that death until the end. Please do not let that death die again. His death appeals for the revival of this heaven, this earth, and these people. Heaven that cannot distinguish justice is not 'my heaven.' Earth that cannot plant peace is not 'my earth.' People who cannot protect human rights are not 'my people.'" (Dong-A Ilbo, January 17, 1987)

The protesters protected by Cardinal Kim left the cathedral on the afternoon of June 15. However, the flame that had begun to burn spread wider. Power yielded to the people's demand for direct presidential elections. The victorious memory cherished by citizens continues today with the belief that justice will surely prevail. The Candlelight Revolution is part of that fruition. South Korean democracy. Alongside the great tower of history built by the people, the cardinal’s name shines as a cornerstone.

Heo Jin-seok, poet and professor at Korea National Sport University