Unrest on the Island of World Peace in 1903

By Robert Neff

Over the last couple of decades, Jeju has often been called the Island of World Peace. But in the spring of 1903, it was anything but peaceful to the small Japanese community ― at least according to the Japanese press.

In January, 53-year-old Hong Jong-u was appointed as magistrate (governor) of Jeju Island. Many people might have viewed his appointment as a promotion or reward, but to Hong it was a demotion ― a form of exile in order to remove him from the capital and politics. Yep, despite being so far away from the capital, Hong still managed to entangle himself in an international incident with his policies on Jeju.

Hong Jong-u during his stay in France. Public Domain – Wikipedia

Hong had a very interesting career and, depending on your political slant, was either a heroic assassin or a cowardly murderer. Hong befriended Kim Ok-kuin (one of the leaders of the failed Gapsin Coup in December 1884) in Japan and together they arrived in Shanghai on March 27, 1894. The following day, while Kim was resting ― Hong suddenly pulled out a revolver and shot him four times, killing him instantly.

The Chinese authorities declared that the issue was a Korean problem and sent both Kim’s corpse and his killer back to Korea for justice. It was a brutal justice. Kim’s corpse was hacked into pieces and displayed throughout the country, while Hong was promoted and given various positions of power.

It is somewhat ironic that Hong, who was very conservative, would play a role in protecting a progressive ― a progressive that would become a leading figure in modern Korean history.
According to Brother Anthony of Taize:

“Hong Jong-u was the presiding judge of the high court known as Pyeongniwon. This was the time of the conservative crackdown on the members of the Independence Club at the end of 1898 and among those on trial was a young student, Yi Seung-man, better known in later times as Syngman Rhee. Hong and Rhee were diametrically opposed. At that time, Rhee might easily have been sentenced to death, yet Rhee later wrote how amazed he was to find Hong determined to save his life; instead, he was sentenced to 100 blows on the buttocks and life imprisonment. He also wrote that Hong gave orders to be gentle when the beating was performed, so that after the 100 blows his skin was not even broken.”

A Korean prison in the late 19th century. Robert Neff Collection

As can be seen, Hong was a man of action ― even if one act conflicted later with another. Hong, who had spent several years in France, was inclined to be pro-French and according to the Japanese press, when he assumed his position on Jeju he acted “in concert with, or by the advice of, French missionaries, he enjoined upon the inhabitants of the island the necessity of not renting houses to Japanese subjects; not selling objects of daily necessity to them; and not buying goods from Japanese merchants.”

Anyone violating the above would be imprisoned. Doubling down on his demands, Hong also declared that any Korean found attending the Japanese school on the island would be beheaded.

The 1,500 Japanese residing on the island became rightfully concerned and sent a missive ― via a Japanese fishing boat ― to the Japanese authorities in Mokpo asking for immediate assistance. It warned that if help were not received soon, the Japanese residents on the island would be forced to flee.

Some Japanese newspapers reported a detachment of Japanese police and a warship as being sent to the island to help quell the “alleged outrages” but one English-language newspaper in Japan (The Japan Weekly Mail) denounced these claims as “much exaggerated.”

Administering punishment in the late 19th or early 20th century. Robert Neff Collection

The claims that the “ex-assassin governor” had issued a statement pointing out that Jeju was not open to trade and so the Japanese had no right to be on the island whereas the French missionaries enjoyed special privileges granted from the Foreign Office in Seoul were unfounded.

The editor of The Japan Weekly Mail noted that there were no official reports in Tokyo of these outrages save that there were some minor commercial issues. If there was unrest on the island, it was not reported in the Korea Review (published in Seoul by Homer Hulbert) which was fully fixated on the French missionary problems in northern Korea and would have undoubtedly been thrilled to add these alleged incidents to its pages.

Hong may not have been as bad as the Japanese press portrayed him, but he was definitely not a beloved governor. According to Jo Jae-gon (the author of “That is why I shot Kim Ok-kuin”), Hong had a large number of pine trees cut down and levied the people with heavy taxes of money. His abuses became so severe that the islanders petitioned the Korean government to recall Hong, but their pleas went unanswered. Perhaps, as Brother Anthony suggests, Hong “was probably intent on securing funds for a bleak future.”

Mokpo in the early 20th century. Robert Neff Collection

Indeed, it was bleak. In the spring of 1905, Hong resigned from his position and went to live in Mokpo. Within a few years, he faded from the pages of history. One account claims he was attacked by a mob and humiliated as being worthless. It is said that he died at the start of 1913 (according to his clan records) in Mokpo while another account suggests it was in Jemulpo (modern Incheon) ― horrifically, as he was dying from starvation, people gathered around and mocked him.

His tomb is unknown ― perhaps, as some have suggested, he was buried in Seoul in a graveyard near Bonghak Mountain where his spirit wanders restlessly, his final resting place forsaken, but his malevolent deeds immortalized.

If you are interested in learning more about Hong Jong-u, I would encourage you to go to Brother Anthony’s page.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.