“The Taebaek Mountains”: The Ordeals and Lamentations of the Korean Peninsula — the Land of Three Thousand Ri(3):The beautiful illusion of the ‘Communist paradise’ and the hellish reality; revolution unfinished, beautiful dream awakened

Contents

The Background, Characteristics, and Influence of The Taebaek Mountains

The Repeated “Changes of Flags” in Beolgyo-eup, South Jeolla Province: Beginning with the Yeosu–Suncheon Incident

The Land Issue: The Focal Point of Political Struggles and Ideological Confrontation on the Korean Peninsula, and the Root of Life-and-Death Struggles Among the People

Trusteeship and Division: The Great-Power Rivalry Among the United States, the Soviet Union, China, Japan, and Others That Created the Korean Peninsula’s Division and Bloodshed

The Turbulence in Beolgyo and the Entire Southern Peninsula: Conflicts of Interest, Conscience and Positions, Uprisings and Suppression, Clashes and Betrayals

The Nobility of Ideals and the Filth of Practice: The Original Aspirations of Left-Wing Forces/Communists, and Their Later Distortion, Internal Fragmentation, and Degeneration into Ugliness The Castles in the Air of a “Communist Paradise on Earth” and the Hellish Reality Under Red Totalitarianism

The Red Revolution Has Yet to Succeed, and the Illusory Beautiful Dream Has Already Begun to Dissolve

Comprehensive Review of The Taebaek Mountains: Emotional Yet Objective, Writing a Tragic National Epic and Illuminating the Complexity of Human Fate

The End of the Drama Is Not the End of Events: Half a Century of Turbulent Transformations on the Peninsula, and the Reflections and Advancement of the Korean People

Han Chinese China and the Korean Peninsula: The Similarities and Differences in National Destinies, and the Subtle Connections of Human Hearts and Social Sentiments

The Trajectory of the Chinese Communist Movement / The Similarities and Differences Between the Rise and Rule of the Chinese Communist Party and That of North Korea

Looking Back at 1945–1949: The Misjudgment, Naivety, and “Soft-Heartedness” of the Republic of China Government and the Chinese People—Key Reasons That Allowed the CCP to Seize Power and Led China into Decline

The Present Differences Between the People’s Republic of China and the Republic of Korea: Not Only in Material Wealth and Scarcity, but Also in the Brightness of Values, the Depth of Thought, the Rise and Decline of Culture, and the Virtues of the People (with examples comparing attitudes of Koreans and Chinese after the Gwangju Uprising and the June Fourth Incident)

Korea and Taiwan: Similar Historical Destinies, Different Ethnic Temperaments, and Divergent Choices in Domestic and Foreign Policy Two Suffering Peoples Meeting in Arms: The Longstanding Yet Unnecessary Conflicts and Confrontations Between China and Korea

Vietnam’s Tragedy of Division and Pain of Reunification: Vietnam’s Fortunes and Misfortunes, External Intervention and Withdrawal, Historical Turning Points, the Reflections of Elites and the Apathy of the Masses, and the Nation’s Continuing Confusion and Struggle

Returning to Contemporary Korea: The Twists of Civil Rights and the Surges of Progress, Seeking New Paths Amid New Difficulties

The Castles in the Air of a “Communist Paradise on Earth” and the Hellish Reality Under Red Totalitarianism

However, the seventy years of North Korean history that followed (as well as South Korea’s corresponding transformation) must have been something completely unforeseen by those idealists, and must have caused them endless regret.

The huge gulf between ideal and reality is not limited to the land issue. For decades, in almost every field of North Korean society—politics, economy, ideology, culture, and human relations—the actual conditions have been dramatically different from, or even entirely opposite to, the ideals of the revolutionaries, and far worse than capitalist South Korea, even inferior to the feudal-era society of the peninsula.

The political system envisioned by the left-wing revolutionaries was a democratic system representing workers and peasants—a “people’s democracy” that would far surpass the “false bourgeois democracy” with its supposedly full and genuine democracy. Yet, although many North Korean state institutions and organizations—including the “Supreme People’s Assembly” and the “Korean People’s Army”—use the word “people” as a decorative label, the essence of North Korea’s political system is an authoritarian regime that blends traditional monarchical absolutism with modern fascist dictatorship. Except for a small degree of inclusiveness in the first few years, the Workers’ Party of Korea controlled all power for more than sixty years. Kim Il-sung, Kim Jong-il, and Kim Jong-un monopolized all authority within the Party and passed it down from father to son. The “Democratic People’s Republic of Korea” became a hereditary feudal monarchy that would leave any genuine Marxist revolutionary dumbfounded.

Under the absolute rule of the Kim family and the Workers’ Party, the people not only failed to hold power or participate in politics but also lost even the most basic rights and freedoms. Similar to Mao-era China, North Korea used a violence-backed household registration system, rationing system, and grassroots public-security apparatus to bind each person firmly to their registered location and even to their specific work unit, school, or residence. Travel to another province (do) or county (gun) required official documents and “letters of introduction (travel permits).” The loss of personal freedom and freedom of movement meant that people could only be manipulated at will.

Moreover, after overthrowing the feudal landlord class and the bourgeoisie, North Korea did not establish a classless—or universally proletarian—egalitarian society. Instead, it divided the population into three classes with drastically different rights and obligations: the “core class,” the “wavering class,” and the “hostile class.” Former revolutionaries, descendants of “martyrs,” poor peasants, tenant farmers, and intellectuals loyal to the regime became the “superior people.” The petty bourgeoisie, rich and middle peasants, and centrists became groups to be both wooed and controlled. Meanwhile, former landlords, capitalists, bureaucrats, and religious believers from the feudal and colonial eras became the “hostile class”—a despised caste.

This “reversal” of class status was portrayed by the North Korean authorities as the liberation of the oppressed and the rightful suppression of class enemies. But in reality, the former revolutionaries and the formerly oppressed simply transformed into a new exploiting class that oppresses others; meanwhile, the former privileged groups became victims of an unjust society, much like the poor tenant farmers of old. And class identity became hereditary—members of the lower classes could rise only through exceptional merit; otherwise, they and their descendants would live generation after generation with fewer rights and heavier burdens.

The historian Tocqueville once said that revolutionaries who overthrow an old system will unconsciously imitate the behavior of those they toppled. This observation has been proven time and again. How is North Korea’s class system—hereditary and rigid—any different in nature from the feudal hierarchical order? Are the Kim family and the privileged elite of the Workers’ Party not simply replicas of the royal family and the yangban aristocracy?

Of course, if one must point out differences, there are some. Traditional yangban nobles often possessed family traditions of scholarship, valued moral cultivation, practiced etiquette, and were broadly learned. While enjoying privilege, they also bore greater responsibilities (moral and legal) and made contributions far beyond those of commoners. At least some of them felt sympathy for ordinary people and treated their tenant farmers and servants with kindness. In the film, Kim Beom-woo’s father Kim Sa-yong is such a typical example. Korean national hero Admiral Yi Sun-sin also came from a distinguished official family. Korean history contains numerous rulers with talent, courage, and compassion—such as King Sejong (Yi Do) and King Seongjong (Yi Hyeol), both enlightened monarchs.

But the privileged class of the Workers’ Party led by Kim Il-sung was nothing like this. Their moral and intellectual levels were extremely low; their obsession with power struggles far exceeded their interest in actual governance; they suppressed public dissatisfaction only through violence, forcing the North Korean people to live in hellish conditions. Once in power, they seized what they wanted, exploited the people at will, and many officials were notorious for sexual violence and all manner of abuses. They possessed the power and status of ancient nobles but none of their morality, knowledge, or sense of responsibility.

Kim Il-sung, Kim Jong-il, and Kim Jong-un—three generations of the Kim family—held a level of power and authority unmatched even by ancient Korean monarchs. Yet they failed to improve the people’s livelihoods (despite certain economic achievements in the 1950s–1970s, which were due primarily to massive aid from China and the Soviet Union, and advances in technology and productivity, not the merit of the Kim family or the Party bureaucracy). Instead, they brutally oppressed the population—especially the “hostile class”—and became the chief architects of totalitarian tyranny. Under their rule, North Korea is one of the poorest and most backward countries in the world, with political repression and human-rights abuses unmatched anywhere else.

“Virtue not matching one’s position brings disaster; ability not matching one’s office brings calamity.” Under the privileged class formed by the Kim family and other elite families, North Korea became a living hell resembling a vast concentration camp—and its real “concentration camps” and “labor camps” are hell within hell. Under authoritarian totalitarian rule, the people have no personal freedom, no freedom of speech, no freedom of press, and not even freedom of thought. Omnipresent control, censorship, indoctrination, and isolation from the outside world have left the North Korean people more ignorant and impoverished than any other population on earth.

If North Korean society as a whole is so dark, its vulnerable groups suffer even more. Life for disabled people in North Korea is hellish. Testimonies from defectors and reports from the UN and various human-rights organizations all describe the hopeless conditions of people with physical or mental disabilities. Many physically disabled people are abandoned and left to die; people with mental illness are confined in camps. In Pyongyang, the capital, not a single disabled person is seen, because none are allowed to live there. Even those not abandoned or imprisoned are expelled from Pyongyang—the showcase city of the nation and the Kim regime.

If disabled people—who are a small minority—are seen as not fully representative, then the condition of North Korean women even more clearly illustrates the deeply feudal, conservative, and rigid nature of the so-called “Democratic People’s Republic of Korea.”

Since socialist/communist ideology places special emphasis on the liberation of women and criticizes traditional systems and Confucian norms that confine women, women have actively participated in socialist movements in many countries, and North Korea was no exception. As women were simultaneously oppressed by colonialism/imperialism, feudalism, patriarchy, and the authority of fathers and husbands, they naturally longed for liberation and rebirth through the socialist revolution. In the film, the female teacher Lee Ji-suk is a very typical female revolutionary.

At first, a series of social reforms in North Korea did promote women’s liberation. Women who previously could only be housewives and had no right to participate in politics generally gained employment, and some even became members of parliament, government officials, judges, and prosecutors, allowing them to break free from certain traditional and familial constraints and become independent “new women.” This was unimaginable in the history of the Korean peninsula and was far more progressive than South Korea at the same time.

But this progress did not last long. As Kim Il-sung’s regime became more stable, the women’s liberation movement gradually halted, and policies and attitudes toward women became increasingly conservative. In fact, even at the beginning, North Korea’s women’s liberation had clear limitations: the main beneficiaries were women from elite and cadre families, and female white-collar workers were concentrated in the privileged city of Pyongyang. Outside Pyongyang—especially in rural areas—traditional moral codes still deeply constrained women.

As time went on, the women’s liberation movement in North Korea did not expand but instead grew more stagnant, and women’s rights and freedoms gradually contracted. As an authoritarian dictatorship, the regime’s primary concern was political stability. Its direct tool of maintaining rule was violence (which meant pleasing men and suppressing women), and its indirect tool was the traditional Confucian hierarchy. Therefore, the Kim regime not only terminated women’s liberation but also used both coercion and incentives to force women back into the role of housewives.

Women active in politics also decreased in number, or became mere decorative figures used for propaganda or tools in the power struggles of male politicians. The most typical example is Pak Chong-ae, a female guerrilla fighter, independence activist, and politician. She was the highest-ranking female political figure in the early years of the North Korean regime, serving as chairwoman of the Democratic Women’s Union and as a member of the Political Bureau of the Workers’ Party of Korea. But throughout her decades-long political career, she had virtually no real presence or influence. During the peak of internal power struggles—the “August Faction Incident”—she supported Kim Il-sung, gaining his trust and promotion, becoming a “vase” that was used for a longer time. Internationally, like China’s Soong Ching-ling, Pak Chong-ae frequently appeared at events such as the “World Peace Council.” She ostensibly represented North Korean women, but in reality, she was merely the mouthpiece of a dictatorial regime.

If even the highest-ranking woman was in such a situation, then ordinary North Korean women—including female revolutionaries—could only fare worse. Even if Lee Ji-suk, the female teacher and chairwoman of the women’s alliance in Beolgyo, had not died during war or political purges, she would surely have become a “small vase” similar to her superior, the “big vase” Pak Chong-ae.

Women’s rights in North Korea did not merely contract under Kim Il-sung; under Kim Jong-il and Kim Jong-un, the enslavement and abuse of women not only did not diminish but intensified. Due to economic collapse and famine since the 1990s, crime rates rose sharply, and vulnerable women became frequent targets. Crimes such as human trafficking and forced prostitution increased dramatically. Many female defectors escaping to China were sexually assaulted or otherwise abused during their escape or after arriving in China, and some even lost their lives in foreign lands.

If these tragedies could still be blamed on famine and criminals (even though famine and criminals were also products of the Kim family’s authoritarian rule), then some of the Kim regime’s direct actions toward women—even Kim Jong-il’s personal orders—further exposed the feudal, patriarchal nature of the regime, which was fundamentally opposed to feminism and women’s liberation.

For example, in 1996, North Korea suddenly banned women from riding bicycles. As for the reason, it is said that Kim Jong-il once saw a woman riding a bicycle while wearing a skirt, which displeased him greatly; he thought it looked improper and violated North Korean tradition. Thus, the entire female population of North Korea was forbidden to ride bicycles until the ban was lifted in 2008. During Kim Jong-il’s rule, women were also discouraged from wearing pants in public, as pants were considered men’s clothing; women were supposed to wear traditional skirts. From a small sign, one can see the whole picture—the oppression faced by North Korean women is obvious.

Under Kim Jong-un, although dress codes and restrictions on women’s behavior have been loosened somewhat, the overall social environment is still extremely unfriendly to women. His sister Kim Yo-jong frequently appears in public and holds significant power, but she cannot represent the vast majority of ordinary North Korean women. According to reports by Human Rights Watch and other organizations, North Korean women—from civil servants to farmers—suffer widespread sexual harassment and sexual violence. Women without power or status are commonly treated as playthings by men. The perpetrators include officials, soldiers, police, security agents, gangsters, and many ordinary North Korean men. Some men publicly grope female colleagues even in front of foreign tourists; one can imagine how much more goes on in the shadows. Even women from Pyongyang’s middle class largely stay at home as housewives serving men, lacking independence and rights.

The Kim family and the Workers’ Party elite are fully aware of all this. But they allow it to continue. On one hand, they oppress lower-level elites and the general population; on the other, they allow these oppressed men to further oppress even weaker women, in order to maintain relative social stability. Women become objects jointly exploited, humiliated, and abused by the regime and by patriarchy, and are used as outlets for men’s frustration. In policy and ideology, the Kim regime fully embraces traditional patriarchal cultural norms that demand women’s obedience to men.

All this was undoubtedly unimaginable to the women who once participated in the so-called “socialist revolution” on the Korean peninsula. They could never have foreseen that the regime they fought to build would become a hell for women.

In short, whether one looks at the overall condition of the North Korean people or the suffering of vulnerable groups, it is clear that the “Democratic People’s Republic of Korea” is neither “democratic,” nor “of the people,” nor a “republic,” but an authoritarian dynasty and earthly hell ruled generation after generation by the Kim family and the elite of the Workers’ Party, who plunder and enslave the masses.

Given such circumstances, the revolutionaries who once risked everything—including their lives—to establish the new “socialist” regime of North Korea must deeply regret it if they survived without becoming corrupted, while the dead must remain eternally unfulfilled.

In particular, the soldiers of the Korean People’s Army who risked their lives on the front lines during the Korean War, attempting to unify the nation or at least seize more territory, could never have imagined that with every inch of land they advanced, the prison of their nation expanded, and more of their compatriots fell into hell.

In August–September 1950, the exhausted KPA soldiers fighting near the Nakdong River, still enduring fatigue, hunger, bombings, and blockades while launching desperate assaults, must have fought with the passion of an imminent national unification and with the ideal of a communist liberation of the peninsula. Tens of thousands fell on both banks of the Nakdong River, and the river was filled with the corpses of KPA soldiers. The Inchon Landing shattered their illusions, plunging them into utter despair. But what they could never have imagined was that their defeat allowed more of the peninsula’s territory to remain in the free world, preventing it from falling into the long-lasting hell experienced in the northern half. Had they broken through the “Busan Perimeter,” unified the peninsula (and even seized Jeju Island), the Korean people would have fallen entirely into darkness, and the later prosperity and glory of the South would never have existed.

However, for such tragedies, one should not be excessively harsh toward the left-wing revolutionaries who sincerely believed in communism at the time, nor toward the common people who joined half willingly, half deceived, or were swept along. After all, who could have accurately predicted everything that would happen later? The noble ideal of communism and its beautiful blueprint were enormously tempting to intellectuals filled with patriotic enthusiasm. And in that era of poverty and violence, when especially lower-class farmers were chronically hungry and lived precariously even when working diligently, their desperate desire to escape oppression and poverty, enter a “heaven on earth,” and live a materially abundant and egalitarian Utopian life, is understandable.

Who could have foreseen that decades later, South Korea’s economy would soar while North Korea would struggle in poverty and famine? Even a wise intellectual like Kim Beom-woo could only see some flaws in communism but could not predict the future in detail, let alone foresee the enormous gap between North and South Korea today.

The Red Revolution Has Yet to Succeed, and the Illusory Beautiful Dream Has Already Begun to Dissolve

However, although most of the tragedies in North Korea occurred only after the Kim family regime was consolidated, even before the revolution achieved victory, the ideal of a “communist paradise” had already begun to dim.

The arrogance of the northern cadres and their discrimination against the South Korean Workers’ Party (South Labor Party) members was only one manifestation of the revolution’s distortion. What revealed the frightening nature of the northern regime even more was its authoritarian tendency—the violent monopoly, power monopoly, and ideological monopoly that forced everyone to obey and conform.

As a descendant of an “enlightened landlord,” Kim Beom-u was forcibly appointed as chairman of the local “People’s Committee.” When he refused, Comrade Kim, the northern cadre in charge of purging counterrevolutionaries, accused him of “contacting Americans” (even though he had refused to act as interpreter when meeting Americans). Kim Beom-u was slapped in the face by the cadre and beaten by his subordinates.

In Beolgyeo, from adult men to women and children, everyone was forced or semi-forced to participate in official organizations and mobilizations. Their uniform clothing and synchronized movements foreshadowed the future appearance of the North Korean people.

The Workers’ Party, which claimed to serve the interests of farmers, imposed excessive taxes and grain requisitions, causing widespread resentment. Grassroots party members warned that this would lose the people’s support, but higher-level officials insisted on pushing ahead.

As an atheist party, the Workers’ Party banned all religious activities, including traditional Korean shamanistic rituals. The shaman Sohwa, girlfriend of Jeong Ha-seop, thus lost her livelihood. But the security chief Kang Dong-sik—tormented by dreams of his deceased wife—begged Sohwa to perform a ritual to console his wife’s spirit. Jeong Ha-seop tried to stop his girlfriend/fiancée from performing rituals for others.

These all revealed that under the rising sun of revolution, not everything was bright; the shadows of authoritarianism had already appeared.

Even Yeom Sang-jin, who had always held firm revolutionary faith, began to waver. Although he maintained a calm appearance and encouraged others to stay strong despite unfavorable war conditions and unstable governance, he himself was increasingly confused about the revolution. Perhaps his doubts had shown through, or perhaps he simply had not flattered the northern cadres enough—Yeom Sang-jin was already under surveillance.

When he returned home and found his younger brother Yeom Sang-gu—also his political and military enemy—hiding there, he did not arrest him. After a tense conversation, he even let his brother escape and gave him his own gun for protection.

For a communist, showing family affection is forbidden, especially since Yeom Sang-jin and his brother had been enemies for many years. But now Yeom Sang-jin let his brother go; this showed that his communist belief was shaken. Yeom Sang-jin had risked his life for the Workers’ Party and its revolutionary ideals, yet he was bullied by northern cadres and placed under surveillance. Meanwhile, during all his years away fighting the revolution, it was his younger brother who had taken care of their mother and wife. Yeom Sang-jin may have realized that compared to the Workers’ Party—glorious from afar but cold-blooded in reality—and compared to the distant ideal of a “unified world under communism,” it was family affection that was truly real and warm.

But before Yeom Sang-jin could reflect further, U.S. forces landed at Incheon, the encircled Korean People’s Army near Busan was counterattacked, and Beolgyeo was about to fall. The newly established local party-state institutions of the Workers’ Party had to retreat urgently. In the emergency meeting, An Chang-min and Lee Ji-suk tightly held each other’s hands, symbolizing that personal affection—family or romantic—was far stronger than communist “comradeship.”

As for Kang Dong-sik’s wife’s ritual, although obstructed, it was still performed on the eve of the Workers’ Party’s retreat by the shaman Sohwa. As Sohwa told Jeong Ha-seop, shamanic rituals offer spiritual comfort to ordinary people.

Jeong Ha-seop’s belief that “one should not believe in spirits; only reality is real” is correct factually. But what is reality like? Before the ritual for Kang’s wife had even finished, Kang Dong-sik led his men to kill “reactionary elements,” even though those people had long surrendered and were already under the administration of the Workers’ Party (otherwise they would have been purged at the beginning). Under blades and bullets, countless new resentful spirits were created.

In such a “real world,” people want to escape but cannot. They can only endure fear and pain, struggling between life and death. In the torment of body and spirit, people naturally seek some comfort. Thus, at the ritual for Kang Dong-sik’s wife, people gathered together and listened to the shaman’s chants.

But even the brief peace and comfort that people longed for no longer existed. Soldiers of the Workers’ Party killed “reactionary elements” everywhere, and the sound of gunfire mixed with the shaman’s mournful chants, making the chants even more sorrowful.

Kim Beom-u, as a humanitarian, tried to persuade Yeom Sang-jin to stop the killing. Yeom Sang-jin still had some conscience and rationality and ordered Ha Dae-ji to stop the retaliatory slaughter. But Ha Dae-ji openly defied him, saying that they were no longer able to restrain themselves.

Was Ha Dae-ji’s slaughter due to innate brutality? No. It was simply that, under the divisions of interests and ideology, the left and the right, the Workers’ Party and the South Korean government had already killed each other many times, creating deep blood hatred. The vicious cycle had left no room for reconciliation or coexistence.

Ha Dae-ji and the others had perhaps originally not wanted to resume killing; otherwise, they would have killed these people as soon as they returned to Beolgyeo. But less than three months after the new regime took control of Beolgyeo, it had to retreat again. Setting aside the likelihood of South Korean and U.S. forces taking revenge on party, government, and military personnel and their families/supporters who could not escape in time—even merely thinking about having to flee and wander again drove them to kill once more. They even burned with anger while packing their belongings, destroying classified documents, and smashing their offices, and took their rage out on former right-wing figures.

Furthermore, obedience obtained through violence is unreliable; those who submit may rebel again at any moment. Even if one shows mercy and spares them, could that truly guarantee that South Koreans—especially right-wing forces—would not take revenge on those left behind? If they did not kill the other side while the other side killed “our” people with cruelty, wouldn’t that mean “suffering a loss”? Thinking again of how their own relatives had been murdered by the opposing camp (for example, as mentioned earlier, Ha Dae-ji’s family was killed by the “Anti-Communist Suppression Unit,” while Kang Dong-sik’s wife was taken by Yeom Sang-gu and ultimately committed suicide), and unable to kill the true perpetrators, they vented their anger on the people before them. If they did not kill now, it would be too late later. Therefore, they killed.

With such a mindset, at the very moment of retreat, Ha Dae-ji and the others launched a massacre against the unarmed and submissive members of the southern right-wing government’s party, government, and military, as well as their families and supporters—even though these people were their compatriots, fellow townspeople, and even relatives and neighbors.

Unable to stop his subordinates’ killing, Yeom Sang-jin responded to Kim Beom-u, almost speaking to himself: “I cannot forget the first time I read Marx—the world without classes, without oppression, where everyone is equal. I swore I would give my life for that. But at some point, I began to lose my way. Where did things go wrong? If I could, I would start all over again.”

When he spoke of “a world without classes, without oppression, where everyone is equal,” the camera shifted to the North Korean flag on the wall and the portrait of Kim Il-sung beneath it. By this time, the cult of personality in North Korea had already begun, and personal dictatorship was forming. Could such a regime ever build “a world where everyone is equal”? “Where did things go wrong?” It was clear that the so-called “socialist/communist” regime had already gone wrong from its very inception (and if traced further back, even the motives of those who participated in the revolution to seize power were far from pure). Most revolutionary cadres, including the top leader, had already degenerated into plunderers and corrupt figures.

The tearing apart of ideal and reality tormented Yeom Sang-jin, as it did many other sincere revolutionaries. When Kim Beom-u accused him of having blood on his hands, Yeom Sang-jin did not repent, insisting that those he killed were “reactionaries.” Kim Beom-u rebuked him: “Using killing as a means, using hatred between people—this can never be an ideology that saves humanity.” (Of course, Kim Beom-u had not yet seen the decades of tragedy that would later unfold in North Korea—tragedies beyond even the most pessimistic predictions of anti-communists like him.)

But Yeom Sang-jin had no more time to think or reply. In the firelight of burning houses, he hurriedly departed.

The two intellectual revolutionaries who had once been Kim Beom-u’s students—An Chang-min and Lee Ji-suk—did not forget their teacher-student bond. As they fled in haste, they tipped their hats to him. But this was likely a final farewell. Perhaps they too, like Yeom Sang-jin, had been troubled by the contradiction between reality and ideals, pondering many important questions. But there was no longer any opportunity to converse or express their thoughts.

The shaman’s ritual lasted the entire night and ended only at dawn. Kim Beom-u was moved by the shaman’s devotion and respect for the dead. The shaman told him that conducting rituals is meant to prevent the living from drowning in hatred and to ease their resentment.

In the final scene of the film, subtitles inform the audience that during the three years of the Korean War, a total of 2.42 million soldiers and 2.86 million civilians from both sides lost their lives, and the war ended with no victor. Yeom Sang-jin, who hoped to “start over,” joined the southern guerrilla forces (“Southern Army”) and continued fighting against South Korean troops. But after the armistice, they were abandoned in the South (partly because of the Workers’ Party power struggle and Kim Il-sung’s deliberate abandonment of the “Southern Army” to weaken the “South Labor Faction”), and all were eventually wiped out by the South Korean military within the following years.

According to the original novel, faced with encirclement by the South Korean army, the desperate Yeom Sang-jin killed himself with a grenade (his commander, the “Southern Army” general Lee Hyeon-sang, was also killed during the South Korean offensive). He no longer had the chance to “start over,” and the more than five million other lives also never had a second chance.

Can so many wronged souls ever find their way—“O souls, return to heaven”?