The Asia-Pacific Journal | Japan Focus Volume 18 | Issue 19 | Number 3 | Article ID 5492 | Oct 01, 2020

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Yun Isang, Media, and the State: Forgetting andRemembering a Dissident Composer in Cold-War South Korea

Hyun Kyong Hannah Chang

Abstract: Yun Isang (1917-95) was one ofKorea’s most prominent composers in thetwentieth century. From 1957, the year hemoved to West Germany, to his death in 1995,he had an internationally illustrious career,garnering critical acclaim in Europe, Japan, theUnited States, and North Korea. In SouthKorea, however, he became a controversialfigure after he was embroiled in a nationalsecurity scandal in 1967. As part of thisincident, dubbed the East Berlin Affair at thetime, Yun Isang was abducted in West Germanyby the Korean Central Intelligence Agency andcharged with espionage for North Korea. Thisexperience of victimization, which also includedtorture, imprisonment, and an initial deathsentence, turned him into a vocal critic of ParkChung Hee and an overseas unification activistin contact with North Korea. This articleremembers the moral and political framings ofYun Isang in South Korea against a recurringpolitics of forgetting that masks the magnitudeof violence that was wielded in the name ofnational security. It traces coverage of Yun inseveral mainstream newspapers from the firstmention of his name in 1952 to 1995. It arguesthat representations of Yun were mediated by atension between national artistic progress andnational security, one of the central tensionsthat defined South Korea’s Cold-War culturalpolitics.

Keywords: Yun Isang, Cold War, South Korea,West Germany, North Korea, East Berlin Affair,

European avant-garde

Yun Isang (1917-95) was one of a small numberof composers from South Korea who had aprominent career in postwar Western Europe.Born near the southern city of Tongyeong(T’ongyŏng) in Japan-colonized Korea, Yunstudied composition and cello at the OsakaSchool of Music in 1935. In post-liberationKorea, he was a promising composer in Seoul.In 1956, he left for Paris to study compositionand settled in West Berlin in the following year.From 1960, as his works were selected forprestigious music festivals, Yun found himselfan emerging figure in the European avant-garde. He garnered praise especially forcompositions that were influenced bytraditional Korean music. From the early 1970suntil his death in 1995, his music wasperformed in big and small concerts inGermany, Japan, the United States, France,North Korea, and beyond. Reflecting hisinternational esteem, Yun also attracteddiverse students, including Toshio Hosokawafrom Japan, Jolyon Brettingham Smith fromGreat Britain, and Conrado del Rosario fromthe Philippines. But there was one countrywhere his name was under constant threat oferasure: South Korea.

Yun Isang’s strained relations with his nativecountry began during the Park Chung Heeregime (1961-79). In summer of 1967, Yun wasabducted by members of South Korea’s Korean

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Central Information Agency (KCIA) in WestBerlin and forced onto a Seoul-bound flight. Hewas one of the 34 South Koreans who werearrested in Western Europe as part of the EastBerlin Affair, a counter-espionage round-upthat the KCIA staged with little evidence. Yun,who had visited North Korea from Europe in1963, was charged with espionage for NorthKorea. He was tortured, tried, and given adeath sentence.1 Meanwhile, his abduction hadcaused West German, Japanese, and Americancolleagues to form action committees in Bonn,Washington D.C., and Tokyo, in order to raiseawareness of the human rights abuse involvedin Yun’s extradition and indictment. Oneparticularly powerful campaign came fromWilhelm Maler, the president of the FreieAkademie der Künste in Hamburg at the time.He drafted an appeal for Yun’s release that wassigned by such luminaries as Igor Stravinsky,Karlheinz Stockhausen, György Ligeti, Herbertvon Karajan, and Mauricio Raúl Kagel. Due tothis and many other international campaigns,Yun was released from prison and was allowedto return to West Germany in the spring of1969.

From this point on, Yun Isang was aninconvenient figure for the Park regime. As areminder of state violence, he also became anicon of opposition within South Korean culturesof resistance, but any public discourse aboutYun had to be shaped care fu l l y andstrategically as it was under the state’ssurveilling eyes. As former dissidents haveattested, in the 1970s, even mentioning Yun’sname was considered a subversive act.2 Yunbecame an even more delicate subject after1973 as he transformed himself into a vocaloverseas critic of Park and a unification activistin contact with North Korea. He would neveragain set foot in South Korea.

The victimization of Yun under the Park ChungHee regime is no longer a sensitive subject inSouth Korea, where a number of famed formerdissidents have entered congressional politics

and the presidency since 1998. However,almost three decades of state-centerednarratives and media’s self-censorshipsurrounding Yun have left a legacy of taboo,and to date, there are no comprehensivestudies that document the ways in which YunIsang was represented and discussed in theSouth Korean media during his career.Scholarship on Yun in English and Korean hastended to focus on stylistic analysis of hiscompositions, celebrating the ways in whichYun tested the boundaries of Western artmusic, rather than addressing the ways inwhich he contested the boundaries of politicaland moral legitimacy.3 While these largelymusicological studies make a significantcontribution to scholarship usually dominatedby preoccupation with Euro-Americancomposers, they have left under-explored Yun’scontested relationship with South Korea – as avictim of the brutality of the Park regime, as ademocratization and unification activist incontact with North Korea, and as a celebratedcomposer.

This article remembers the political and moralframings of Yun in Cold-War South Koreaagainst a recurring politics of forgetting thatmasks the magnitude of violence that waswielded in the name of national security. Iexamine accounts about Yun in South Koreannewspapers from the first mention of his namein 1952 to his death in 1995, drawing on morethan seventy articles in three papers that werevulnerable to state pressure – Tonga Ilbo,Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, and Maeil Kyŏngje (after1988, I also bring in a number of articles fromthe dissident newspaper Hankyoreh). To searchfor Yun Isang in mainstream newspapers in thesecond half of the twentieth century –particularly during the Park and Chun regimesand to some extent during the Kim Young Samadministration – is to be overwhelmed by thecollaborative relationship between the mediaand the state. Of course, the media was not anofficial mouthpiece of the state, and individualjournalists at various times sought to negotiate

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the terms of what could and could not be saidabout Yun and other dissidents. But reports onknown dissident figures tended to conform toofficial Cold-War narratives, attesting to a printculture where writers of any stripe, includingthose with activist leanings, had to use theframes of hegemonic discourse if Yun’s namewas to be printed in public documents.

The state’s influence on the press, however, didnot mean that the newspapers published auniform image of Yun across the decades. Yunproved to be a challenging figure to representas he confounded the two-part commitment ofthe state to “the display of ‘South Korea’… as adevelopmentalist space at once opposing andmirroring its northern counterpart in the globalCold War.”4 As I argue, a tension betweennotions of artistic progress and nationalsecurity pervaded newspaper reports on Yun.On one side, Yun’s success in Western Europestrongly resonated with the developmentalistdiscourse that had shaped even the sphere ofart and music in post-colonial, Cold-War SouthKorea. Yun’s success made him an exemplar ofSouth Korea’s ascendance within artisticcultures of the Cold War’s Western bloc. On theother side, Yun’s contacts with North Koreaand his activism around national unificationcould not be assimilated into state’s nationalsecurity ideology, which required an excision ofNorth Korea and any elements associated withit. I highlight the tension between the desire toclaim exemplars of national progress and theproblem of regulating their political criticismsas a persistent feature of Cold War culturalpolitics in South Korea, as elsewhere.

In what follows, I organize the receptions ofYun Isang into seven periods, based onperceptible shifts in the tone and message ofnews coverage. The first two sections examinenews articles published prior to the East BerlinAffair, exploring the lesser-known stories ofYun’s breakthroughs in South Korea and WestGermany. The subsequent sections considerhow the press represented Yun during and

a f t e r t h e I n c i d e n t a n d h o w t h e s erepresentations swayed in response to changesin the domestic political climate and Yun’sinternational activities.

1952-55: Recognition in South Korea

The East Berlin Affair of 1967 promoted Yun’simage as an overseas South Korean dissident inthe Western imagination, but references to hisname in South Korean newspapers before hisdeparture to Germany contest this association.These early references from the early-to-mid1950s demonstrate that Yun moved inmainstream cultural organizations structuredby South Korea’s anti-communist, pro-U.S.stance in the wake of the Korean War. One ofthe early new articles (if not the earliest) tomention Yun is from March 1952, in the midstof the Korean War. It advertised a concert ofoperettas and film music organized by theW a r t i m e C o m p o s e r s ’ A s s o c i a t i o n(chŏnsijakkokka hyŏphoe) at a café.5 Yun wasone of the two composers whose music wasfeatured. Other mentions from the early 1950slink Yun to a number of establishmentorganizations, such as the Korean ComposersAssociation (han’guk chakkokka hyŏphoe) andthe Music Fan Club (myujik p’en k’ŭllŏp).6

At this time, what distinguished Yun from manyof his contemporary composers in South Koreawas not his politics but his attempt to write artmusic at the juncture of modernism andnativism. Chŏn Pongch’o, a music professor atSeoul National University, was one of the firstcritics to write about Yun’s attempt tosynthesize Western musical modernism andKorean aesthetics. In his rave review of thecomposer’s piano trio and string quartet forTonga Ilbo in 1955, Chŏn wrote:

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I n t h e s e t w o w o r k s , I f e e l t h eundercurrents of our ancestors’ sorrowand happiness, love for one’s hometown,and the smell of the earth. In the musicdwells a kind of national religion from thethree southern provinces, which Yun Isangpossesses in his body. They are musicalpaintings…in which a sense of Easternmystery and a people’s tradition competeseriously with a modern consciousness.7

Chŏn’s review is significant as one of the firstpieces of music criticism to note Yun’sintercultural style. As such, it prefigured laterWestern and Japanese critics’ evaluation ofYun’s works.

In his Tonga Ilbo review, Chŏn added that Yunwas a more advanced composer than hisKorean peers, describing the reviewed piecesas “a revolution…produced in a country wherepeople who harmonize children’s songs callthemselves composers.” Such an evaluation,while divulging Chon’s condescending attitudetoward South Korean composers in themid-1950s, nevertheless sheds light on thehistorical circumstances under which Westernmusic entered Korea in the early twentiethcentury. Western music was introduced as partof Japanese colonial education and U.S.religious missionary activity, rather than asconcert-hall repertoire. Due to these historicalbeginnings, Korean composers of this musicwho came of age during the colonial period(1910-45) tended to write for educational orChristian initiatives, rather than for the concerthall. It is interesting to note how Yun’strajectory both conformed to and contested thecareer patterns of his generation. Like many ofhis contemporaries, he studied Western musicfirst with U.S. missionaries in Korea and thenstudied composition in Japan in the late 1930s,beginning at the Osaka School of Music andlater with Ikenouchi Tomojirō.8 However, unlikemany of his contemporaries, Yun aspired to

write art music in the vein of Westernmodernism.

In 1956, the 39-year-old Yun went to Paris tofurther his composition studies, thanks to aSeoul City Cultural Award he received.Kyŏnghyang Sinmun and Tonga Ilbo advertiseda farewell gathering organized by the KoreanComposers Association and Music Fan Club,treating his forthcoming voyage as an affair ofnational importance.9

1956-66: Overseas Success at a Time ofDomestic Transition

After a year at the Paris Conservatory, Yunmoved to West Germany in 1957 and studiedwith Boris Blacher at the Berlin University ofthe Arts. Thereafter, Yun’s reputation grew inthe contemporary art music scene in WestGermany. A turning point was attending theDarmstadt International Summer Course forNew Music in 1958. This annual event hadbecome a key locus of support and network formale avant-garde and experimental composersfrom the United States and Western Europe bythe mid-1950s. Composers from Latin Americaand Asia made up a minority. Darmstadt gaveYun the opportunity to get to know establishedand new composers and to become familiarwith the latest trends. Among the composers heinteracted with at Darmstadt in 1958 was JohnCage (1912-92), who was perhaps the mostinfluential figure in the trans-Atlantic avant-garde at this time, and Paik Nam June(1932-2006), a Korea-born artist who had livedin Hong Kong and Japan before moving to WestGermany in 1956.10 Yun’s experiences at thiscenter of new music helped him join a smallnumber of East Asian composers who wouldbecome participants of the Euro-Americanavant-garde in the 1960s and 70s. Suchcomposers included Yun, Paik, the Japanese

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composer Ichiyanagi Toshi, and the ChineseAmerican composer Chou Wen-Chung.11

Figure 1: Paik Nam June (left) and YunIsang in Darmstadt, 1958.

Figure 2: from left, Paik Nam June, YunIsang, Nomura Yoshio, and John Cage.

Darmstadt, 1958.

After 1958, Yun’s works were selected topremiere at prestigious festivals – Music forSeven Instruments in Darmstadt (1959), FivePieces for Piano in Bilthoven (1959), and StringQuartet No. 3 in Cologne (1960). In 1962, theBerlin Radio Symphony Orchestra premieredBara, a piece that alluded to a Korean Buddhistceremony. Each of these successes delayed hisplan to return to Seoul. A Ford Foundationgrant in 1964 enabled him to bring his familyfrom South Korea, making his move to WestGermany permanent.

Two South Korean news articles involving YunIsang in the wake of his first Europeanbreakthroughs were written by Yun himself. In1960, Yun wrote to Kyŏnghyang Sinmun twicefrom West Germany, and both correspondencesdemonstrate that he saw himself not only as apart of his adopted world in West Germany butalso as an extension of South Korea’s art andmusic scene. The first of these, a letteraddressed to the public, appeared in thenewspaper’s May 21 issue.12 Yun brieflydescribed Music for Seven Instruments andreported that it was performed or broadcast inWest Germany, Italy, Belgium, Sweden, France,Japan, and Denmark. This letter also signaledthat Yun was closely following South Koreanpolitics from West Germany: the opening payshomage to “the many students who shed bloodfor their country,” referring to large-scalestreet protests of April 1960, which had oustedthe then-president Syngman Rhee following af raudu len t e l ec t i on . Yun ’ s secondcorrespondence passed on the news of aforthcoming Japanese art exhibition in a WestGerman gallery. Kyŏnghyang Sinmun,paraphrasing Yun’s letter, reported that thisgallery was hoping to include “the works of sixcontemporary painters in the Korean art scene,who can rank w i th or surpass pos t -impressionist painters who represent Japan’syounger generation.”13 That Yun took it as hisduty to pass on this news to South Koreanreaders suggests that he was eager to increaseKorean representation relative to Japanese

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representation in West Germany’s art scene.

After 1960, there is no record of Yun’s directcorrespondence wi th South Koreannewspapers. One factor, other than his busyschedule at the time, is his disappointment withpolitical developments in South Korea.According to Der Verwundete Drache (TheWounded Dragon), a book-length interviewwith Yun by the writer Luise Rinser publishedin 1977, Yun was shocked by the news of ParkChung Hee’s rise to power through militarycoup (the full Korean translation of thisinterview was not published until 1988).14

Park’s “military revolution” fundamentallychanged South Korean society: it elevated themilitary as the most authoritative ruling bodyand empowered a regime that justified itsbrutality by citing the need to eliminatecommunist and pro-North Korean elements inSouth Korean society. It became increasinglydifficult for the press to maintain autonomy asthe Park regime sought to punish or co-optdissenting journalism through intimidation,financial retaliation and the National SecurityAct. It is instructive that within six months ofthe coup, Park’s Revolutionary Court executedCho Yongsu, the owner of a center-leftnewspaper that had been opposed to theconservatives’ hardline policy against NorthKorea over the objection of the InternationalPress Institute.15

Yun no longer maintained an active relationshipwith the mainstream South Korean press after1960, but favorable mentions of Yun increased,reflecting the cosmopolitan aspirations ofSouth Korea’s cultural scene. Articles from1961 to 1962 show that South Korea’s regionaland national institutions conferred awards onYun.16 In 1964, Tonga Ilbo took note of profilesof Yun in West German newspapers TheTelegraph and Der Tagesspiegel’s.17 In 1965, acontemporary music festival organized in Seoulcited Yun as inspiration for the event.18 Yun’spremieres in Hanover and Berlin in 1965 and1 9 6 6 w e r e t o u t e d a s “ o v e r s e a s

accomplishments,” and the premiere of Reak atthe 1966 Donaueschingen Festival wassummarized as “our music making a mark inWest Germany.”19 In February 1967, only fivemonths before Yun’s forced return to Seoul,Hwang Byungki, then an emerging figure inKorean traditional music, praised Reak,describing it as a “fine work that reconstitutedthe traditional aesthetics of Korean musicthrough modern music techniques”20 (seebelow). Clearly, Yun’s recognition in Europestrongly resonated with the rising desire ofSouth Korean society for recognition in theCold War’s western bloc, especially given thedearth of overseas figures who were seen torepresent South Korea.

Youtube video of Reak

The overwhelmingly positive reception of Yunwas felt in Seoul’s art music scene as well.Yun’s pieces were included in concerts morefrequently than before (see Figure 3). Almostall of the performed pieces were short artsongs, which were much easier to learn, stage,and appreciate, rather than challenginginstrumental compositions like Reak, which Yuncame to be known for in West Germany. Thisleaning toward art songs reflected not only themusical taste of the concert-going public, butalso the dearth of performance infrastructurefor contemporary Western art music in early1960s Seoul. For example, there was noprofessional orchestra dedicated solely toexperimental music. However, at least onenews article from 1960 tells us that a musiccafé played a recording of Yun’s instrumentalpieces – Music for Seven Instruments inDarmstadt (1959), Five Pieces for Piano inBilthoven (1959), and String Quartet No. 3(1960).2 1 This café, the now-legendaryRenaissance music room (Runessangsŭ

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ŭmaksil), was a mecca for college-educatedaficionados of European classical music.

Figure 3: number of concerts duringwhich Yun’s work(s) was performed inSouth Korea, annually from 1952 to1995. Compiled by the author based onreports of concerts in Tonga Ilbo,Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, Maeil Kyŏngje,and Hankyoreh.

1967-68: Defamed and Romanticizedduring the East Berlin Affair

In the summer of 1967, Yun’s positive imagewas abruptly overturned, and performances ofhis music halted in South Korea (see Figure 3).On June 17, Yun was kidnapped in WestGermany and forced onto a Seoul-bound flightby the Korean Central Intelligence Agency(KCIA), Park Chung Hee’s main instrument forpolitical control. Yun’s extradition was part of aroundup that arrested approximately 34 SouthKoreans in Western Europe on charges ofespionage for North Korea. Among the arrestedwere Lee Ung-no, a celebrated painter in Paris;Pak Nosu, an international law researcher atCambridge; and Ch’ŏn Pyŏnghŭi, a Germanliterature student at Heidelberg University.Later accounts and testimonies reveal thatthese arrests and the ensuing torture were

based on the KCIA’s inflated and alarmistreading of a philosophy scholar’s “confession”about the possible vulnerability of SouthKoreans in Europe to the reach of the NorthKorean state.22 These accounts also tell us thatPark Chung Hee had much to gain by raisingthe threat of North Korea in the summer of1967 as he sought to stifle growing protestsagainst his efforts to abolish term limits for thepresidency by controlling the nationalassembly. In this context, the KCIA staged anational security crisis to hamper the protestsand to steer public opinion in Park’s favor, atactic that the Park regime used multiple timesin the face of popular dissent.23

The arrest of overseas Koreans became theheadline for major newspapers on July 8 (seeFigure 4). These initial reports, replete withdirect quotations from the KCIA’s statements,were little more than a retelling of the state’sofficial narrative. Consider, for example, thereport in Kyŏnghyang Sinmun:

This operation team is the largestorganizat ion of spies engaged ininternational espionage in the West anddomestically, and it is notable for includinguniversity professors, doctors, artists,government workers, and renownedfigures, as well as young intellectuals.According to the announcement, most ofthem were lured into the recruitmentoperations of the North Korean puppetregime [pukkoe], which is based in EastBerlin, while they were studying inWestern Europe. They were then lured toPyongyang via the People’s Republic ofChina and the Soviet Union, admitted intothe Communist Party, and given funds tofurther their studies or obtain doctoraldegrees. After their studies, some of themcame back to South Korea with the missionto infiltrate politics, academia, press,administration, or legislation.24

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The uncritical subscription to the KCIA’sposition in this and other newspapers in thewake of the roundup exemplified the media’sdocility under Park.25 This was especially trueof Kyŏnghyang Sinmun. While today it leanstoward progressive and centrist reporting, in1964, it was auctioned off to an automobilecorporation by the government after thepaper’s owner challenged Park’s mediacensorship.26

Figure 4: “Arrest of North Korea’sEast Berlin communist espionageoperation,”Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, July 8, 1967.Yun Isang’s photograph is top leftamong the ten photographedfigures.

Newspaper coverage surrounding the trialsturned Yun into a poster boy of what was called“North Korea’s East Berlin CommunistEspionage Operation against the South”(tongbaengnim kŏjŏm pukkoedaenamkongjaktan sagŏn). This term, coined by theKCIA, marked East Berlin as the center ofNorth Korea’s recruitment of overseas SouthKoreans in Europe for the purpose of deposingthe South Korean state. Reports of the trialsrecord the KCIA’s determination to inflate atrip taken by Yun to Pyongyang in 1963 fromEurope, in order to establish him as a spy.27 Inresponse, Yun maintained that his visit wasmotivated by his wish to search for a friendwho had gone to North Korea and to see anancient mural, which he wished to use as asource of inspiration for a composition. He alsoclarified that the money he received from NorthKorean officials were personal gifts, notoperation funds for espionage, as the KCIA hadalleged. The questions directed at Yun andretold in newspapers reflected the state’sdetermination to criminalize a range ofdiasporic South Korean activities that rested onthe permeability of Cold-War borders in Europe– for example, socializing with North Koreansat a North Korean restaurant in East Berlin.

More sympathetic reports also began to appearin early December of 1967, a few weeks beforethe first trial. Such reports were a response tothe increasing international attention that thecase of Yun and the broader scandal wereattracting.28 Nevertheless, an awareness ofincreased international attention amongdomestic journalists did not mean they couldfreely introduce foreign coverage surroundingYun and the East Berlin Affair. At this time,journalists could pay dearly if their reports onworld affairs did not conform to the state’sposition on North Korea. For example, in 1964,the KCIA jailed the well-known reporter RheeYŏnghi for reporting the United Nations’consideration of granting admission to both

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North Korea and South Korea – an objective ofboth states at the t ime. 2 9 Given suchrestrictions, coverage of Yun had to becarefully framed within the limits of acceptablediscourse. News reports tended to appeal toPark’s generosity and underscore Yun’sachievement as a composer, leaving asidecriticisms of the Park regime in foreign media30.One of the first articles in this vein reportedthat the South Korean government approvedBonn Opera House’s request for Yun to finishw r i t i n g t h e o p e r a D i e W i t w e d e sSchmetterlings (known as The ButterflyWidow), which was commissioned prior to hiskidnapping to Seoul. This article portrayed thePark administration as a magnanimous bodythat accommodated a foreign culturalorganization and the artist and presented Yunas a genuine artist who was devoted to hiscalling even in jail.31 Another trope connectedYun’s fate in the trial to the issue of SouthKorea’s prestige in the international artscommunity. An article in Kyŏnghyang Sinmunsuggests that Yun’s lawyer pushed this angle. Aquote from the lawyer states: “many foreignersincluding the international composerStravinsky are petitioning for a generousverdict, and it is hoped that he can continue tocompose as a free person so that he cancontinue to enhance the nation’s prestige.”32

The number of reports citing internationalattention increased after Yun received a deathsentence on December 13, 1967. This increasereflected more robust campaigns for Yunabroad as well as pressures from the WestGerman and French governments. SouthKorean reports of such campaigns neverexceeded the limits of domestically accepteddiscourse, but they did convey to the publicthat an unprecedented scale of internationalattention was being paid to a jailed SouthKorean artist. For example, a KyŏnghyangSinmun feature on the second trial (March1968) drew attention to two West Germans whoattended the trial as witnesses and reportedthat they vouched for Yun’s patriotism towards

South Korea, commitment to anti-communism,and low opinion of communist music.33 Severalarticles in the summer of 1968 pointed to Yun’sinternational standing by announcing that hewas granted membership in West Germany’sHamburg Arts Academy and commissions fromthe West German Radio and Mills College inthe United States.34 An article from November1968 covered a recent performance of Yun’sReak at Carnegie Hall in New York Cityalongside works by stellar figures of theinternational avant-garde, such as Charles Ives,Krzysztof Penderecki, and Milton Babbitt. Themeaning of this report was clear: it advertisedthe performance of Yun’s signature Koreanistwork at the heart of the Cold-War free world.This article also included a translation of theconductor Lukas Foss’s petition to PresidentPark, which he had read aloud before theperformance of Reak:

‘I do not know what crime Yun Isangcommitted and I don't know the details,but I know that his works are beautiful andmagnificent, and that they exclude anypolitical intention,’ he stated. ‘Even if hiscrime were onerous, we hope that pathsare open so that he can contribute to theRepublic of Korea through superbcomposition as a free person.’ 3 5

All in all, news coverage of Yun Isang in thecourse of 1968 fashioned a number ofnarratives that would prove influential insubsequent decades. They framed the artist’sbrilliance, his international reputation, and theapolitical nature of his works as indications ofhis integrity. These reports most likely put atleast some pressure on Park, but they alsomeant that the issues of legal justification andpolitical terror surrounding the East BerlinAffair could not be raised directly.

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1969-74: A Korean Representative inthe European Avant-Garde

Yun was released in February 1969 andreturned to Berlin in March in the face ofincreased international criticism as well asreports by a number of South Koreanjournalists who covered the case extensively. InAugust 1970, newspapers reported that Parkgranted a special presidential pardon to Yunand almost all of the other public figuresarrested in 1967.36 This recourse to presidentialpardon, at odds with the severe penaltiespreviously given to the indicted individuals,suggests that the Park regime wanted toextricate itself from a scandal that wasattracting mounting international attentionwhile still framing Yun and others as criminalswho were forgiven by the state.37

With the pardon as a starting point, Yunbecame the subject of dozens of articles in theSouth Korean press each year until 1975. Noneof them mentioned the East Berlin Affair orYun’s victimhood. Instead, they focused on therecognition of Yun’s music in Westerncontemporary music circles. Usually written byguest contributors or journalists for culturesections, such articles imagined Yun as a kindof South Korean representative at theinternational center of contemporary art music.For example, Kim Chung-gil’s review of theDonaueschingen Festival in West Germany forTonga Ilbo illustrates how young South Koreancomposers like Kim understood Yun as aKorean representative in a music scene too“advanced” for Asian composers:

Because Yun Isang of Korea premieredReak in the 1966 festival and receivedcritical acclaim, participants wereinterested in South Korean composers ofcontemporary music. To give a generalreview of the festival in my own way, the

pursuit for the creation of new sounds,new forms, and new performancetechniques almost made me dizzy. In short,there will be many problems for Easterncomposers to exceed these composers.38

Other than aspiring composers like Kim Chung-gil, established figures in South Korea’straditional music praised Yun for using Korea’scultural asset as a source material for Westernart music. For example, Han Manyŏng, in anop-ed for Tonga Ilbo, described Yun’s music as“a rational explanation of Korean court music”and considered it a rare example of successfulhybrid work in a crowded scene of “touristic”fusion music.39

Favorable appraisals of Yun’s music peaked in1972, when he was commissioned to write anopera for the opening ceremony of the 1972Summer Olympics in Munich. Newspapersproudly reported that Yun’s chosen subject forthe opera was Simch’ŏng (spelled Sim Tjong byYun), a Korean folktale about a filial daughterand her blind father. News articles presentedthe opera Sim Tjong as a hybrid workshowcasing “Taoist, Buddhist, or Confucianideology,”40 guided by the composer’s ownwording of the program.41 Overall, reports ofSim Tjong were wrapped in nationalistic fervor.They treated the performance of the opera as asign of Korea’s ascendance in the world (seeFigure 5). Im Wŏnsik, a South Koreanconductor who attended the opera in Munich,voiced this sentiment in an interview withKyŏnghyang Sinmun: “when was the last timethat Korea had inspired Western society thismuch, in opera or otherwise, in our country’slong history?”42

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Figure 5: “Simch’ŏng in the World,”Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, August 9, 1972.

From 1971 to 1974, Yun’s music appeared in atleast eleven concerts in South Korea,suggesting that the state did not raise objectionto public performances of his music (see Figure3). Particularly notable were two new musicfestivals held in 1971. The first of these, afestival organized by the conservative MusicAssociation of Korea, performed Yun’s Loyang,which used a type of Korean court music thatdrew on Tang-dynasty Chinese music as sourcematerial.43 The second of these programmednot only Yun’s music but also that of his SouthKorean students who had recently returnedfrom Hanover, Paik Byung-dong and KangSukhi.44 Park and Kang subsequently becameleading figures in South Korea’s experimentalmusic scene. In this way, Yun shaped thecourse of new music in his native country from

his diasporic space in West Germany.

That Yun’s music could be praised andperformed in South Korea from 1971 to 1974despite his prior charge and despite evenstronger censorship in the early 1970s speaksto the pervasive nationalistic desire for “free-world” cosmopolitanism at public and officiallevels. Yun, as a rare case of a successfulKorean artist in the Cold War’s western bloc,was a compelling story, and as long asreferences to inconvenient truths were muted,he could be accommodated in the media. Itshould be remembered that it is partly thiswidespread desire for cosmopolitanism thatmade it possible for dissenting intellectuals andjournalists in South Korea to keep mentioningYun’s name – an implicit reminder of statev io lence – in pr int media . However ,opportunities for even this type of obliqueresistance largely disappeared when Yun spokeout against Park at an international pressconference.

1975-81: Blacklisted

In 1975, there was a sudden drop in referencesto Yun in South Korean newspapers. Therewere also no reported performances of hismusic from 1975 until 1982, suggesting that hisworks did not pass the censorship board (seeFigure 3). This silence stood in stark contrastto Yun’s productivity during this period. Fromthe perspective of Yun’s trajectory as acomposer, the second half of the 1970s was atime when he explored large-scale concertosand orchestral suites. These works, whichprepared him for a cycle of symphonies in the1980s, were noted for expressing greaterdepths.45 Among his most acclaimed piecesfrom this period was his Cello Concerto, whichwas premiered at the International Festival inRoyan, France in 1976 (see below). Critics

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discerned Yun’s experience of suffering in thispiece, and Yun affirmed that the abstractcondition of oppression portrayed in this piecewas rooted in his personal experience ofincarceration. He also added that the cello, hisfavorite instrument, conveyed his voice andspirit.46 In addition to this and other concertos,Yun continued to develop his signature Asianiststyle in Muak (1978) and Fanfare and Memorial(1979). Beyond breakthroughs in composition,a new teaching position at the Hochschule derKünste in Berlin gave him the opportunity toinfluence a growing number of students. Hisstudents in the late 1970s included HosokawaToshio, a Japanese composer who had admiredYun since hearing a performance of Reak andDimensionen in Tokyo in 1971.47

Youtube video of Cello Concerto

The imposition of silence in South Korea was aresponse to Yun’s leadership role in theoverseas South Korean democratizationmovement. According to historian GavanMcCormack, this movement, “stirred first bygovernment abductions and the state terrortactics of the 1960s,” came to have thecharacteristics of an international movement inthe 1970s, with networks of overseas Koreanand foreign activists established in Tokyo,Berlin, and London, among others.48 Activists ofthis movement spoke against the mountingviolence under Park and sought to create linksbetween North and South Korea, against themodel of competition and confrontation thatgave cover to the Park regime’s human rightsviolation. Yun worked with two groups thatplayed a pivotal role in this movement:Hanmintong49 (Korean Democratic UnificationAlliance in Japan), a Zainichi organization, andHanminryon50 (Korean Overseas Alliance for

Democratic People’s Unification), an umbrellagroup comprising dissidents in Europe andNorth America.51 Yun’s press conference inTokyo in 1974 symbolized coalition buildingbetween these two groups and presented himas a leader of this coalition. At this event, hespoke about his experience of torture by theKCIA and demanded the release of Kim DaeJung, then an opposition politician who wasabducted from Tokyo by the KCIA in 1973.52

In 1977, South Korean newspapers broke theirsilence on Yun. They brought him up in thecontext of a rally in Tokyo that broughttogether Yun and other activists from differentcountries. Reports of this rally called them“anti-Korean (banhan) figures” and supportedthe state’s position that the Japanesegovernment should not have allowed such arally to take place in the first place.53 Ananonymous editorial that appeared inKyŏnghyang Sinmun is notable for the extent towhich it sounds like government propaganda:

It is a real pity there was an anti-Koreanrally of approximately one hundredoverseas anti-Korean figures in Tokyoaround Independence Day… It is a widelyknown fact that Hanmintong is a Viet Congorganization that engages in espionage atthe command of North Korean puppetregime… Most of its frontline leaders werepeople who fled or were expelled forcommitting corruption and all kinds ofwicked deeds while they served in publicoffice in the Republic of Korea… Yun Isangis someone who actually received prisonsentence during the East Berlin Affair forvisiting Pyongyang, and the former U.N.officer Im Ch’angyŏng had also committedconsiderable offence. It is truly absurd thatthey go around deceiving good overseasKoreans as they present themselves asdemocratic figures or nationalist fighters.54

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The pro-establishment nature of this editorialexemplif ies the self-censoring mediaenvironment in the last years of the 1970s. Atth is t ime, Park Chung Hee’s YushinConstitution (1972-79), which gave sweepingexecutive power to the president andsuspended constitutional freedoms, posedadditional barriers to autonomous journalism.

The blacklisting of Yun Isang in the media wasalso reproduced in South Korea’s Western artmusic scene. This took the form of an exposé ofIm Wŏnsik’s guest-conducting of Yun Isang’sMuak with the Berlin Symphony Orchestra inGermany, in a 1979 issue of Wŏlgan ŭmak(music monthly). Im, a prominent figure inSouth Korea’s orchestras and elite musiceducation, was a longtime colleague of Yunwho had testified on behalf of Yun’s innocenceduring the East Berlin Affair. He had alsoattended Simch’ŏng in Munich in 1972. Theexposé, t i t led “Shocking News: ThePerformance of Yun Isang’s Music Ignites aDebate about Anti-communism within theMusic Scene,” reprinted the concert programand published commentaries by nine classicalmusic professionals in South Korea. Themajority of the commentators disapproved ofIm for collaborating with Yun abroad. A musiccritic stated: “Yun Isang has committedconsiderable offense to Korea. We have avoidedperforming his music, and we have beencautious in establishing relations with him.Therefore, Im, who already knows this well,should not have gone to Germany.”5 5 Acompos i t ion pro fessor argued thatanticommunist nationalism should be a priorityover questions of artistic value: “Beforeevaluating Yun’s works as art, [it should benoted that] it is improper to take interest in itor to like it. This is common sense known toevery South Korean citizen, so to sympathizewith a communist even outside Korea is todeviate from Koreans’ position.”56 A composerbranded Yun as a threat to freedom: “It is

possible to create music freely and performfreely because this country is a free country.Anyone who harms this free country is theenemy of this freedom and our enemy.”57

Overall, this published forum displayed theextent to which key players in South Korea’sart music community had assimilated the tenetsof establishment discourse in the late 1970s.

1982-87: Chun Doo Hwan’s Bid for Yun

T h e M a n i c h e a n d y n a m i c s t h a t h a dcharacterized the reception of Yun in the 1970swere repeated during Chun Doo Hwan’spresidency (1980-87), Park Chung Hee’ssuccessor regime that also began with amilitary coup. Under Chun, the press’s politicalconformity was arguably even stronger. This isbecause Chun imposed thorough pre-publication censorship of newspapers duringthe martial law period (1980) as he sought tonormalize his power in the face of enormousopposition. During this uncertain time, censorsbacked by the Defense Security Command weredispatched to newspaper headquarters to mutereports of opposition and other inconvenientnews, particularly the brutal killing ofdemonstrating citizens in Kwangju in 1980.58

This iron-fisted beginning galvanizedopposition (which would eventually causeChun’s downfall), but it also led to an early co-optation of key media executives.

After Chun formally became the presidentthrough a rigged election in August 1980, hismedia strategy became one of diversion.Sometimes called “cultural policy” (munhwachŏngch’aek), this tactic presented Chun as agenerous steward of cultural liberalization. Itpromoted cultural hallmarks of middle-classlifestyle to divert public attention away frompolitics, especially the regime’s illegitimatebeginning and its brutal response to the

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Kwangju demonstration. Indeed, as mediahistorians such as Kang Chunman have pointedout, it was during Chun’s rule that the state-enforced curfew was lifted, professionalbaseball was inaugurated, entertainment showswere broadcast in color TV, and massivepopular music festivals were offered to thepublic.59 Classical music was only a minorcomponent of the cultural policy, but like otherspheres of cultural life, it was reshaped to fitthe framework of leisure consumerism in theearly 1980s. The founding of magazines such asKaeksŏk (the Auditorium) and Ŭmaktonga(Music East Asia), as well as an increase inclassical music education, concerts, andrecordings expanded the audience for a musicthat had previously been tethered to an elitebase.

A number of reporters under the Chunadministration appealed to the cultural policywhen they suddenly brought up Yun Isang’sname in 1982. In August 1982, they introducedan upcoming two-day concert dedicated to Yunin a celebratory tone, seemingly forgetful of thecondemnations four years prior. Their reportsshowed every indication of the regime’ssponsorship as well as collaboration betweenthe media and the government: they promisedthe South Korean premieres of Yun’s orchestraland chamber works at two state-sponsoredtheatres and praised the government’sintention of “allowing the performance of worksof artistic value regardless of the artist.”60

Coverage leading up to the concert drewattention to the event’s international andliberal characteristics, in line with the officialcultural policy as well as the culturalrefinement discourse that had marked classaspirations in 1980s South Korea. It advertisedthat “classical music aficionados” will have thechance to purchase scores of over sixty piecesby Yun and publicized a roster of Europeanmusicians who were coming to Seoul toperform during the event.61 The performancescene in Seoul also accommodated this suddenshift: performers could play Yun’s pieces in

public concerts (see Figure 3), and even theTonga Music Concours, an elite competition foraspiring student performers, included Yun’s artsong Talmuri in its contest repertoire.62

Upon closer reading, it becomes clear that thesudden embrace of Yun in 1982 was motivatedby the regime’s desire to coopt him for the1988 Seoul Olympic Games. Cultural policy parexcellence, the Olympics became a buzzword inSouth Korean media following the successfulb id in 1981. In the ear ly 1980s , thegovernment, in collaboration with media elites,began to set the agenda to meet internationalstandards during the Olympics, and it was inthis context that the authorities organized “YunIsang Night” and made subtle bids for Yun’sparticipation. In a 1982 issue of Maeil Kyŏngje,we can find a suggestive appeal by ChoSanghyŏn, then the president of the MusicAssociation of Korea and a member of theOlympic preparation committee. Previously, hehad branded Yun a communist in the 1979exposé in Wŏlgan ŭmak. Cho highlighted theimportance of “leaving a positive image ofKorea” during the Olympic Games and endedhis piece with the following: “We rememberthat Yun Isang’s piece Simch’ŏng waspremiered during the opening ceremony of theMunich Olympics.”63 Around the same time, ajournalist at Tonga Ilbo also recommendedopening the Olympics preparation committee toYun Isang and “other artists of internationalstature who cannot engage in domesticactivities for various reasons.”64 Yun himselfconfirmed in a later interview (1993) that theChun administration made a private request forhis participation in the Seoul Olympics.65

In the end, Chun’s bid for Yun foundered asinconvenient news surrounding the composer’sactivities reached South Korea. These includedthe performance of Exemplum in memoriamKwangju in Cologne in 1981 and in otherEuropean cities thereafter. Exemplum inmemoriam Kwangju commemorated the victimsof the Kwangju Massacre – the very brutality

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that Chun sought to conceal from the beginningto the end of his rule. More broadly, this piecebelonged to a series of explicitly political piecesthat Yun composed beginning in the late 1970s.Such a new direction was a departure from thegenerally non-political orientation of Yun’soeuvre up to this point, an orientation thatcould provide cover for the idea that Yun Isangwas a safe composer who was committed to theidea of Western classical music as “absolute”music devoid of political content. Yun’spolitically engaged pieces around this timealluded to dissident and resistance movementsin South Korea and beyond. For example, Teiledich Nacht (O Night, Divide, 1980) set to musicpolitical verses by Albrecht Haushofer, amember of the resistance movement againstthe Nazi regime; the second movement ofViolin Concerto No. 2 (1983) was written for anantinuclear concert of the Japan PhilharmonicOrchestra; Naui Dang, Naui Minjokiyo! (MyLand, My People, 1987) was an ode to thepeaceful unification of the Korean peninsulaand used verses by dissident South Koreanpoets.66 Besides this activist strand in hisworks, Yun’s visit to North Korea in 1984 andthe establishment of the Yun Isang ResearchInstitute in Pyongyang in 1985 were otherinconvenient news. After 1984, the number ofperformances of Yun’s music dropped again,indicating that they did not pass censorship(see Figure 3).

In this regard, the Chun administration’s bidfor Yun may also be understood within thestructure of competition between South Koreaand North Korea. Kim Il Sung had treated Yunwith respect in the 1970s, a period when Yunjustifiably saw himself as a victim of SouthKorean terror. In the early 1980s, Kimcontinued to court Yun by initiating a numberof projects in the composer’s honor. Forexample, in the same year that the SouthKorean authorities staged Yun Isang Night, KimIl Sung established an annual Yun Isangfestival, complete with an orchestra devotedexclusively to the performance of Yun’s music.

1988-95: Unwelcome in a “Democratic”Security State

In 1988, Yun took the initiative to take on amore public role involving South Korea. On July2, he held a press conference in Tokyo topropose a joint North-South concert held nearthe 38th parallel. This was the composer’sresponse to the reforms that South Koreansociety was undergoing as a result of the JuneStruggle of 1987, the culmination of thedemocratization movement that had begun inthe 1970s. The June Struggle brought forth apopular presidential election for the first timein sixteen years although, ironically, the electedcandidate was Roh Tae Woo, a former generalwho had played a leading role in Chun’s 1980coup. The new administration, despitelimitations, initiated significant departures.Most importantly, it allowed greater freedom ofthe press. The inauguration of the dissidentnewspaper Hankyoreh in 1988 was a notabledevelopment on this front as it meant thelegalization of discourses that had beenpreviously criminalized. Thanks to the influenceof Hankyoreh, mention of Yun Isang’s name innews outlets jumped at least tenfold in 1988compared to 1987. Greater freedom also led tothe translation and publication of LuiseRinser’s Der Verwundete Drache in Korean,adding to a rising body of literature thattestified to the use of torture during the Parkregime.67 Secondly, Roh promised a departurefrom the confrontational politics of the ColdWar. His July 7, 1988 Statement envisionedmutual exchanges between South and NorthKorea and the end of exhaustive competition,although by 1989 all signs suggested that Rohhad no intention of changing the status quo inthe state’s dealings with North Korea.

At Yun’s press conference in Tokyo in July1988, he proposed a Joint National MusicFestival involving representative symphoniesand choirs of North and South Korea and statedthat if the authorities in both countries

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accepted, he would lead the planning of suchan event with civilian organizations from bothsides.68 Throughout July 1988, several dozenarticles addressed the question of whether theRoh administration would accept Yun’sproposal.69 Initially, the administration did notissue any response, prompting Hankyoreh anda number of musicologists and musicians tourge government action.70 When it finallyresponded, i t became c lear that thegovernment had propped up the same fear-mongering ideology of national security of itspredecessors (in addition to bureaucratic redtape), in spite of Roh’s July 7 statement andNorth Korea’s acceptance of Yun’s proposal.71

And establishment newspapers soon revertedto the practice of endorsing the state’sposition.

We can trace this process of blocking to a late-July issue of Tonga Ilbo, which published thegovernment’s stance on Yun’s proposal. Itstated that the appropriate offices such as theMinistry of Culture, the National UnificationBoard, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairswould meet to discuss and decide on thequestion of a joint festival if Yech’ong, aconservative cultural organization, were toaccept Yun’s proposal and submit anapplication.72 By September 1988, it wasreported that the festival proposal waswithdrawn. A number of reports from Octobershowed that national security bureaucrats hadblocked Yun. This meddling, brought up duringa congressional hearing in October, wasunderreported or selectively reported in thepress, but when synthesizing differentaccounts, it appears that the Minister ofForeign Affairs ordered a top National SecurityAgency (an’gibu) official to pressure the SouthKorean embassy in Germany to block Yun’sapplication to contact the Minister.73

Conversations between Yech’ong and Yunresumed in December 1988, but the festivalwas again suspended by March 1989. Thistime, the Roh administration and Yech’ong

could not tolerate the center-left’s enthusiasmfor Yun’s planned visit to South Korea for thefestival. The president of Yech’ong, ChŏnPongch’o, wrote in the March 4 issue ofKyŏnghyang Sinmun that the festival wassuspended and blamed Yun for havingcommunicated with a progressive culturalorganization (Minyech’ong) and a welcomecommittee in Kwangju. Chŏn stated that suchcontacts suggest “a plan with politicalimplications.”74 Another development that theSouth Korean authorities could not stomachwas the performance of Yun’s music inPyongyang in February 1989.75 Fourteen daysafter this performance, Kyŏnghyang Sinmunannounced that the South Korean governmenthad decided to prohibit the import of records ofYun’s music performed by the State SymphonyOrchestra of DPRK, the very orchestra that hadplayed Yun’s music in Pyongyang.76 Thedynamics of disinvitation surrounding Yun’sproposed festival suggested that the Rohadministration had no intention of allowingSouth-North exchanges outside its conservativenational security channels. Indeed, this posturewas reinforced in the course of the 1989, as thestate penalized democratization and unificationactivists who vis i ted North Korea byincarcerating them upon their return to theSouth.

What is even more remarkable is that themechanisms of blocking, disinvitation, andstate-media collaboration were repeated underthe Kim Young Sam administration (1993-8),which touted itself as South Korea’s firstc i v i l i an democracy . Under the K imadministration, the organization that sought tobring Yun to Seoul was Yeŭm, a classical musicmarketing firm. In July 1994, newspapersannounced that Yeŭm was organizing a YunIsang Music Festival in September and re-opened the question of the composer’shomecoming.77 Initially, journalists wroteenthusiastically about the prospect of thecomposer’s return, but soon they presentedcontradicting information, reflecting the

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anxieties among national security bureaucratsin the government. Illustrative in this regardwas the July 19 issue of Tonga Ilbo, whichpublished contradictory news of Yun’s visit onthe same page: one article stated that Yunwould come to Korea in August while thearticle right next to it stated that hishomecoming was not confirmed.78 Within amonth, Kyŏnghyang Sinmun was casting Yun inan incriminating light, putting the blame on thecomposer for the cancelled visit in 1989 andunderscoring his ties to North Korea.79

Ultimately, Yun did not board the flight thatwas scheduled to arrive in Seoul on September3. News articles around this date reveal thatthe question of Yun’s entry had promptednothing less than a meeting among bureaucratsin the National Unification Board, Ministry ofForeign Affairs, Ministry of Culture and Sports,the Ministry of Justice, and National SecurityAgency, and that it was decided during thismeeting that they would not allow Yun’s entryif he did not issue “an apology for his pro-NorthKorean activities.”80 To communicate thismessage to Yun, an employee of the SouthKorean embassy in Berlin went to Yun’s houseon August 31 – only three days before the flight– and requested that Yun issue an “officialposition that he will never engage in politicalactivities” as a condition for coming to SouthKorea.81 News articles also show that therewere irreconcilable stances within thegovernment. Tonga Ilbo reported that thegovernment had “initially decided to disallowYun’s visit unless he were to issue an apologyfor his pro-North Korea activities,” but that“the National Unification Board and high-ranking officials” had reversed the initialdecision from a “humanitarian standpoint.”82

On the other hand, Kyŏnghyang Sinmunpublished the Department of Justice’s moreaggressive stance that it had not received anyentry application from Yun and that it woulddecide on whether or not to admit him afterreviewing his purpose of visit . 8 3 Yun,responding to these messages, indicated

through an interview with Kyŏnghyang Sinmun(September 2) that he would board anupcoming f l ight i f the South Koreangovernment made it known that it welcomedhim.84 The next day, the Department of Justiceannounced through Tonga Ilbo that “itabsolutely cannot accept Yun’s demand that theSouth Korean government issue a message ofwelcome.”85 That was the last message Yunheard from the government via newspapers.

After the failed visit of 1994, the coverage ofYun outside Hankyoreh moved to the familiarpractice of advertising recognition of his musicin Europe and the United States.86 In November1995, journalists wrote about Yun’s death inWest Germany. Even these reports relied onthe established trope of praising Yun’sinternational standing in contemporary artmusic while leaving untouched the history ofhis unjust sufferings under the Park regime.

Conclusion

This article traced the reception of Yun Isang inseveral mainstream South Korean newspapersfrom 1952 to 1995 in light of a recurringpolitics of forgetting that threatened to eraseYun and his sense of duty to justice and peaceon the Korean peninsula. In particular, itdemonstrated that the figure of Yun wasmediated by a persistent tension betweenideologies of national security and a desire fornational progress in the arts, two definingaspirations of Cold-War South Korea. Morebroadly, this article explored the collaborativerelationship between the media and the stateas a productive site of Cold-War “truths,”drawing on scholarship that defines the media-state nexus as an object of inquiry in examiningpostwar histories of South Korea.

It should be noted that the South Korean

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reception of Yun after his death changedsignificantly. With more liberal administrationsin power – from Kim Dae Jung (1998-2003) toRoh Moo Hyun (2003-8) – all restrictionssurrounding Yun’s works were lifted, and hismusic was performed much more frequently.To cite one year as an example, in 1999, theopera Butterfly Widow had a South Koreanpremiere, and Angel in Flame, an orchestralwork that memorializes the self-immolation ofstudent activists during democratizationprotests in 1991, was performed in the mostmiddle-class of classical music events in SouthKorea, the Seoul Arts Center SymphonyFestival. Commemorative projects, such asphoto exhibitions, documentaries, andbiographical novels, also emerged andculminated in the founding of the TongyeongInternational Music Festival (TIMF), acontemporary music festival in Yun’s hometownTongyeong, in 2002. Nevertheless, theseprojects did not completely drown out time-tested anti-communist paranoia,87 and Yun’sname became the target of blacklisting againwhen a conservative government under ParkGeun-hye’s leadership came into power in2013. In 2016, the Park administration cut thebudget that had been set aside for the YunIsang International Music Competition, as partof the administration’s blacklisting andstigmatization of progressive cultural projectsand art ists . 8 8 Moreover, a number ofconservative groups have continued to keep aclose watch on developments surrounding Yun,even two decades after his death. In 2018,when Yi Suja, Yun’s wife, came to Tongyeong to

bury the composer’s ashes, they staged a seriesof rallies, demanding that his remains beburied in North Korea.89

The tension that Yun tested for almost threedecades is not a closed chapter belonging toSouth Korea’s illiberal past. This tensioncontinues to police the boundaries of culturallegitimacy, albeit in abated forms, and as longas the National Security Law continues to exist,it will be available as a legal basis for shapingthe parameters of cultural and morallegitimacy. Nor is this tension a phenomenonunique to South Korea. It was an identifiablefeature of Cold War cultures globally, as shownby the blacklisting of illustrious but dissentingcomposers, such as Aaron Copland, LeonardBernstein, Dimitri Shostakovich, and SofiaGubaidulina, among others. And today,powerful state leaders are grasping onto theseemingly outdated tactic of suppressingdissenting public figures in the name ofnational security (or, relatedly, “public safety”and “law and order”), whether in the UnitedStates or China. In a world that is witnessing avisible return of such oppressive tactics, thestory of Yun Isang in South Korea reminds ushow national governments with the aid of themedia can mobilize the fear of an ideologicalOther in order to impose their own version ofthe truth on their citizens.90

Hyun Kyong Hannah Chang is Lecturer in Korean Studies at the University of Sheffield.She is a cultural historian and musicologist specializing in transnational Korea. Her work hasappeared in Music & Politics and Ethnomusicology Forum, among others.

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Notes1 Torture of Yun was not revealed to the South Korean public until a full translation of TheWounded Dragon was published in 1988. Under Park’s rule, journalists who knew about theuse of torture could not report it without risking retribution.2 “Cheirŭm ch’ajŭn yunisang kinyŏmgwan [Yun Isang Commemoration Hall reclaimed hisname],” Hallyŏ t’udei, April 5, 2019.3 For example, see Shin-Hyang Yun, Yunisang kyŏnggyesŏnsangŭi ŭmak [Yun Isang, Music atthe Border Line] (Paju: Han’gilssa, 2005); Jeongmee Kim, “The Angels and the Blind: IsangYun’s Sim Tjong,” The Opera Quarterly 17, no. 1 (2001): 70-93. Yun Isang’s musical style hasalso been one of the most popular dissertation topics among overseas South Korean doctoralstudents in music performance.4 Theodore Hughes, Literature and Film in Cold War South Korea: Freedom’s Frontier (NewYork: Columbia University Press, 2012), 3.5 “Kagŭkkwa yŏnghwaŭmak palp’yoginyŏmhoe [commemorative concert of operettas and filmmusic],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, March 3, 1952.6 For example, “Han’guk chakkokka hyŏphoe [Korean composers association],” KyŏnghyangSinmun, September 19, 1954.7 “Tongyangjŏgin sinbigam [a sense of Eastern mystery],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, July 21, 1955.8 See Luise Rinser and Isang Yun, Yunisang sangch’ŏ ibŭn yong [Yun Isang, the woundeddragon] (Seoul: RH Korea, 2004), 43-7. First published 1977 by S. Fisher.9 For example, “Yunisang tobul hwansonghoe [farewell gathering for Yun Isang’s trip toFrance],” Tonga Ilbo, May 23, 1956.10 Martin Iddon, New Music at Darmstadt: Nono, Stockhausen, Cage, and Boulez (Cambridge:Cambridge University Press, 2013), 224.11 Amy Beal, New Music, New Allies: American Experimental Music in West Germany from theZero Hour to Reunification (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2006),123. Peter M. Chang, Chou Wen-Chung: the Life and Work of a Contemporary Chinese-bornAmerican Composer (Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press, 2006), 34.12 “Sogwanhyŏnakkok sŭk’oŏ kanhaeng [publication of chamber music],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun,May 21, 1960.13 “Han’guk ch’usanghwajŏn [Korean abstract art exhibition],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, August29, 1960.14 Rinser and Yun, 104.15 Chunman Kang, Han’guk hyŏndaesa sanch’aek 1950nyŏndaep’yŏn 1kwŏn [a stroll throughKorea’s contemporary history, 1950s, no. 1] (Seoul: inmulgwa sasangsa, 2004), 327.16 For example, “Nurwŏn munhwasang [nurwŏn culture award],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun,January 12, 1961.17 “Mugunghan pyŏnhwaryŏk [constant change],” Tonga Ilbo, April 10, 1964.18 “Chakkokkadŭrŭi kyŏngsa [a festival for composers],” Tonga Ilbo, May 8, 1965.19 “Haeoeesŏ ttŏlch’in chŏngjin’gongjŏk [overseas accomplishments],” Tonga Ilbo, December27, 1965; “Sŏdoge ttŏlch’in uriŭmak [our music making a mark in West Germany],” TongaIlbo, November 17, 1966.20 “Aakkwa hyŏndaeŭmak [Korean court music and modern music],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun,

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February 22, 1967.21 “Yunisang chakkok kamsahoe 22ilbam [Yun Isang music appreciation event to be held onthe evening of the 22nd],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, December 21, 1960.22 This scholar, Im Sŏkchin, was known in South Korea mainly as a leading scholar of Hegeluntil his death in 2018. He completed a doctoral degree at the Goethe University Frankfurt in1961. In 2003, Im testified that his disclosure of some overseas South Koreans’ visit to NorthKorea was greatly exaggerated by the KCIA. See “Minjuhwa paljach’wi [the traces ofdemocratization],” Han’guk Ilbo, May 30, 2003.23 Chunman Kang, Han’guk hyŏndaesa sanch’aek 1960nyŏndaep’yŏn 3kwŏn [a stroll throughKorea’s contemporary history, 1960s, no. 3] (Seoul: Inmulgwa sasangsa, 2004), 150-165.24 “Tongbaengnim kŏjŏmŭrohan pukkoegongjaktan kŏmgŏ [arrest of North Korea’s East Berlincommunist espionage operation],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, July 8, 1967.25 See, for example, “Pukkoedaenam chŏkhwagongjaktan chŏkpal chŏngbobujang palp’yo [theKCIA’s exposure of North Korea’s communist espionage operation against the south],” MaeilKyŏngje, July 8, 1967.26 Kang, Han’guk hyŏndaesa sanch’aek 1960nyŏndaep’yŏn 3kwŏn, 111.27 For example, “P’yŏngyangdo tanyŏwatta [I even went to Pyongyang],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun,November 15, 1967; “Kongso kŏŭi siin yunisang [Yun almost admitted the charges],” TongaIlbo, November 15, 1967.28 From the perspective of the South Korean government, the most damning response was theWest German government’s decision to discontinue its aid program toward South Korea. Thiswas not reported in South Korea at the time of suspension. Only when the suspension wasreversed did Tonga Ilbo cover the incident. The article commended Park for resolving aforeign relations crisis. “Taehan wŏnjo kŏmt’o chaegae [review of aid program for SouthKorea reopened],” Tonga Ilbo, March 2, 1968.29 Chunman Kang, Han’guk hyŏndaesa sanch’aek 1960nyŏndaep’yŏn 2kwŏn [a stroll throughKorea’s contemporary history, 1960s, no. 2] (Seoul: inmulgwa sasangsa, 2004), 329.30 Rinser and Yun, 197-200.31 “Okchungesŏ yŏkkŏnaenŭn nabiŭi kkum [spinning a butterfly’s dream in jail],” Tonga Ilbo,December 4, 1967.32 “Okchungjakkok nabiŭikkum [a butterfly’s dream composed in prison],” KyŏnghyangSinmun, December 7, 1967.33 “Haoe kuhyŏng kongjaktan hangsosim [this afternoon, the appeal court rules on theespionage case],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, March 27, 1968.34 For example, “Sŏdok hamburŭk’ŭ yesurwŏn [West Germany’s Hamburg Art Academy],”Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, July 4, 1968.35 “Segyeŭi sisŏnmoŭn yunisangssiŭi chakp’um [world’s attention on Yun Isang’s work],”Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, November 13, 1968.36 One known case of execution involved Pak Nosu, a researcher at Cambridge University whowas visiting Seoul at the time of arrest. He was executed in 1972. In 2017, the South Koreansupreme court pardoned Pak and ordered the state to pay 2.3 billion won to Pak’s family.“Sahyŏng 45nyŏnmane [45 years after execution],” JoongAng Ilbo, September 1, 2017.37 “Yunisangssi t’ŭkpyŏl samyŏn [special pardon for Yun],” Maeil Kyŏngje, August 12, 1970.38 “Chŏnt’ongjŏgin chubŏp pŏsŏna [going beyond traditional techniques],” Tonga Ilbo,

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November 20, 1970.39 “70nyŏndae munhwagyeŭi cheŏn [recommendations for the cultural community in the1970s],” Tonga Ilbo, February 17, 1970.40 “Segyeŭi simch’ŏng [Simch’ŏng of the World],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, August 9, 1972.41 “Ŭmnyurŭi kŭkch’i [music’s highest reach],” Tonga Ilbo, August 3, 1972.42 “Twiŏp’ŭn op’era kyenyŏm [concept of opera, subverted],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, September6, 1972.43 “Che3hoe sŏul ŭmakche [the third Seoul music festival],” Maeil Kyŏngje, February 11,1971.44 “Sŏul kukche hyŏndae ŭmakche [Seoul international contemporary music festival],” TongaIlbo, September 15, 1971.45 These included Cello Concerto (premiere in Royan, 1976), Flute Concerto (Hitzacker, 1977),Violin Concerto No. 1 (Frankfurt, 1981), and Clarinet Concerto (München, 1981).46 Rinser and Yun, 236-7.47 Bonnie C. Wade, Composing Japanese Musical Modernity (Chicago: University of Chicago,2014), 75-6.48 Gavan McCormack, “The Park Chung Hee Era and the Genesis of Trans-Border Civil Societyin East Asia,” in Reassessing the Park Chung Hee Era, 1961-1979: Development, PoliticalThought, Democracy, and Cultural Influence, eds. Hyung-A Kim and Clark W. Sorensen(Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2011), 189.49 Abbreviation of Chaeil han’guk minju t’ongil yŏnhap.50 Abbreviation of Han’guk minju minjok t’ongil haeoe yŏnhap.51 Both groups are still classified as anti-state organizations in South Korea under the NationalSecurity Law.52 Rinser and Yun, 105.53 For example, “Panhanhoeŭijangsŏ ch’ungdol [confrontation in an anti-Korean meeting],”Tonga Ilbo, August 15, 1977.54 “Ilbonŭn panhanhwaldong kyujehara [Japan should restrict anti-Korean activities],”Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, August 17, 1977.55 Sŭnghak Yi, “Sasiriramyŏn ihaehal su ŏpta [if it’s true, I can’t understand it],” Wŏlgan ŭmak(May 1979), 56.56 Hongyŏl Yi, “Kugoerago kongsanjuŭie hoŭnghal su ŏpta [even when abroad, one cannotanswer to communism],” Wŏlgan ŭmak (May 1979), 57.57 Tuhoe Ku, “Ttŏttŏt’i kal kirŭl salp’yŏya ketta [being vigilant in our path],” Wŏlgan ŭmak(May 1979), 57.58 Chunman Kang, Han’guk hyŏndaesa sanch’aek 1980nyŏndaep’yŏn 1kwŏn [a stroll throughKorea’s contemporary history, 1980s, no. 1] (Seoul: inmulgwa sasangsa, 2004), 108.59 Kang, Han’guk hyŏndaesa sanch’aek 1980nyŏndaep’yŏn 1kwŏn, 12-3.60 “Taehanmin’guk ŭmakche naedal 14il kaemak [Korea music festival to open on the 14th ofnext month],” Tonga Ilbo, August 20, 1982.61 For example, “Yunisangssi akpo 60yŏjong p’anmae [scores of more than 60 works by Yunfor sale],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, September 13, 1982.62 “Tongaŭmak k’ongk’ŭrŭ yogang [Tonga concours outline],” Tonga Ilbo, December 22, 1982.63 “Ollimp’ikkwa ŭmak [the Olympics and music],” Maeil Kyŏngje, March 25, 1982.

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64 “Han’gugŭi ki yerŭl segyee [Korea’s energy and propriety to the world],” Tonga Ilbo,September 17, 1982.65 “Ŭmagi chŏnbu [music is everything],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, May 19, 1993.66 See Kyongboon Lee, “Yunisangŭi ŭmakkwa p’yŏnghwasasang [Yun Isang’s music and theideology of peace],” T’ongilgwa p’yonghwa 9, no. 2 (2017): 91-120; Hyejin Yi, “Nationalcultural Memory in Late-Twentieth Century East Asian Composition: Isang Yun, HosokawaToshio and Zhu Jian’er,” The World of Music 6, no. 1 (2017): 73-101.67 “Yunisang, ruijerinjŏŭi taedam [Yun Isang and Louise Rinser’s conversation],” KyŏnghyangSinmun, December 3, 1988.68 For example, “Nambukhan haptong ŭmak ch’ukchŏn [South-North joint music festival],”Tonga Ilbo, July 2, 1988.69 For example, “7.7 sŏnŏn [July 7 Statement],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, July 9, 1988.70 “Nambuk ŭmakch’ukchŏn chŏngbu ipchang p’yomyŏng ch’okku [urging the government torespond to the South-North music festival],” Hankyoreh, August 24, 1988.71 “Nambugŭmakche pukhansŏ surakt’ongbo [North Korea accepts South-North musicfestival],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, July 23, 1988.72 “Kŭmmyŏng chŏngbubangch’im kyŏljŏng [the government will make a decision soon],”Tonga Ilbo, July 26, 1988.73 “Isunjassi chŭnginch’ulssŏk yogu [Yi Sunja to appear as witness],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun,October 6, 1988; “Kukchŏnggamsa imojŏmo [the various sides of the congressional hearing],”Hankyoreh, October 7, 1988.74 “Nambuk ŭmakch’ukchŏn sasilssang musan [South-North music festival cancelled],”Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, March 4, 1989.75 “Yunisangssi sillaeakkok p’yŏngyangsŏ yŏnjuhoeyŏllyŏ [Yun’s chamber music performed inPyongyang],” Tonga Ilbo, February 13, 1989.76 “Pukhan kyohyangaktan yŏnju 4kaeŭmban suip purhŏ [import of four records by the StateSymphony Orchestra of DPRK prohibited],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, February 25, 1989.77 For example, “Yunisang ŭmakch’ukche 9wŏre yŏnda [Yun Isang music festival inSeptember],” Tonga Ilbo, July 12, 1994.78 “Yunisangssi 8wŏl han’gugonda [Yun Isang will come to Korea in August],” Tonga Ilbo, July19, 1994; “Yunssi ‘kwiguk kyŏljŏngandwae’” [Mr. Yun, ‘have not decided on return’],” TongaIlbo, July 19, 1994.79 For example, “Chomunbangbuk kyop’o nugun’ga [who are the overseas condolencevisitors],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, July 16, 1994.80 “Irwŏjin yŏmwŏn yunisangssi [realized aspirations, Mr. Yun],” Tonga Ilbo, September 1,1994.81 “Yunisangssi kwiguk ‘p’yoryu’ [Yun Isang’s return adrift],” Hankyoreh, September 2, 1994;“Yunisangssi kwigukchwajŏl [Yun Isang’s return, frustrated],” Tonga Ilbo, September 3, 1994.82 “Irwŏjin yŏmwŏn.”83 “Ipkukhŏga sinch’ŏng ajik motpadatta [entry application not submitted],” KyŏnghyangSinmun, September 1, 1994.84 “Yunisangssi ilmunildap [Q and A with Yun Isang],” Kyŏnghyang Sinmun, September 2,1994.85 “Yunisangssi hwanyŏng yogu [Yun Isang’s demand for welcome],” Tonga Ilbo, September 3,

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1994.86 For example, “Orhaeŭi ‘koet’emedal’ chakkokka [this year’s Goethe model recipient’],”Maeil Kyŏngje, March 1, 1995.87 For example, the performance of Angel in Flame led to some objections from the classicalmusic community. “Yunisang ‘hwayŏmsogŭi ch’ŏnsa’ kungnaech’oyŏn nollan [controversyover the national premiere of Angel in Flam],” Tonga Ilbo, April 12, 1999.88 See, for example, “Yesan sakkam yunisangŭmakk’ongk’urŭ ‘chwach’o’ wigi [budget cut forYun Isang Competition, under threat of running aground],” Kyŏngnam Ilbo, December 29,2016.89 “Togirŭi yunisang yuhae, 25il t’ongyŏngŭro onda [Yun Isang’s remains to come toTongyeong after 25 years],” Chosŏnilbo, February 24, 2018.90 Research for this article was first presented at a symposium on Yun Isang that was part ofthe 2017 Tongyeong International Music Festival (TIMF). I thank Dr. Heekyung Lee forinviting me to present at this event.