Writer: Park Sung-hee, Professor, Division of Communication and Media, Ewha Womans University
BTS's global success vs. domestic polarization raises questions about Korea's soft power and cultural integrity
The Performance and Its Paradox
The historic BTS performance at Gwanghwamun seems to have added another criterion for identifying "old fogeys." If reactions like "Why English songs in front of King Sejong?" "No peace message in these times?" "Where's the Arirang?" or "It feels more like a performance at the Arc de Triomphe, a square box-like structure" resonate with you, there's a high chance you're one. These individuals might not bat an eye at BTS dancing and delivering a speech at the UN during a previous administration, when the venue was empty. They likely consider it natural for "entertainers" to be mobilized for state affairs.
They observe BTS much like villagers watching a neighbor's son return after making it big in the capital—checking if he still respects his elders, if his appearance is dignified, if he's lost his manners. They might not realize how massive BTS has become: tickets for their global tour, starting at Gwanghwamun, are already sold out, and the Jimmy Fallon Show is excitedly previewing their appearance. Whether we "gave" Gwanghwamun to BTS or they "came" to it depends on one's perspective.
While opinions on the performance's quality may vary, few would dispute that BTS has elevated Korea's global standing. Just recently, Maggie Kang, director of the Oscar-winning "KPop Demon Hunters," dedicated all glory to "Koreans." She won in a golden dress inspired by royal attire, designed by a Korean designer who incorporated traditional patterns onto white clothing symbolizing the "white-clad people." Pansori echoed at the Oscars, and Netflix streamed BTS's performance titled "Arirang"—paired with Gwanghwamun's grandeur and the National Gugak Center's melodies—to 190 countries. Yet, why does something still feel lacking? Are we truly a cultural powerhouse? The BBC called the Gwanghwamun event "successful soft power." But is our soft power genuinely wholesome?
Culture Beyond Performance
The atmosphere at Gwanghwamun on the day of the performance evoked a strange déjà vu. The sight of thousands of police officers tightly blocking and inspecting the area wasn't unfamiliar. It felt like a reprise of our expertise in managing protests—a skill honed as a "republic of demonstrations." While safety is a priority, requiring pedestrians to open bags and pass through checkpoints from morning for an 8 p.m. performance seems excessive. Would cultural leaders do the same?
British cultural theorist Raymond Williams defined "culture" as the most complex and contested word, extending beyond dance and song to encompass how we live. Edmund Burke, an 18th-century British politician, complicated this further, calling culture "manners"—something more important than law and above politics. These manners, he said, are like the air we breathe daily: they can anger or soothe, pollute or purify, coarsen or refine us through persistent, steady, unchanging, and imperceptible influence.
David Brooks, a columnist worried about America's cultural decline under Trump, describes culture as "the common water we all swim in." Within this water, individuals form values, emotions, opinions, love, goals, and aspirations. They also shape and change the water, creating an ecosystem. Brooks saw culture and individuals as mutually influential.
"Soft power," a term popularized by political scientist Joseph Nye, refers to a nation's influence through diplomacy, political principles, and cultural capital in the global era—often using propaganda, disinformation, or social media as tools. This power has blurred the line between "hard" and "soft," with a nation's appeal and identity relying on democratic rule of law and fair institutions.
This understanding prompts a reevaluation of our culture. Beyond dance, song, film, and art, what defines our way of life? Do we have a culture that unites and connects us like the water we swim in? Is our culture above politics and more important than law? Do we have a culture that lets us breathe freely and happily, fostering trust and consideration among people? Is our rule of law a genuine soft power? Are we truly a cultural nation?
The Dissonance Within
These questions arise not because BTS sings in English or because the cast of "KPop Demon Hunters" is mostly overseas Koreans. It's the stark dissonance between the thriving "K-culture" abroad and the "Korean culture" at home. Society is polarized, people have forgotten dialogue, and politicians long ago lost decency and restraint. Laws meant to uphold justice now protect the powerful and criminals. A society that conflates control with order, individuals struggling with freedom, and regressive politicians continue to pollute our air and water.
Are we truly a cultural leader? The answer likely lies somewhere between BTS, "carrying a bag full of trophies" ("MIC Drop") and conquering the world, and Gwanghwamun, transformed into a fortress for a night.
References
Brooks, D. (2019). The second mountain: The quest for a meaningful life. Random House.
Burke, E. (1790). Reflections on the revolution in France. Penguin Classics.
Chosun Ilbo. (2026, March 26). Are we truly a cultural leader? Retrieved from https://www.chosun.com/english/opinion-en/2026/03/26/LCYAZQMD4JAYJLTSY6RRYTPNPQ/
Nye, J. S. (2004). Soft power: The means to success in world politics. PublicAffairs.
Williams, R. (1976). Keywords: A vocabulary of culture and society. Oxford University Press.
