🌼 Beneath the Flowers: An Invitation into Memory
People often visit Jeju to see the yellow canola blossoms.
Its wind, its sea, its sunlight — they seem to offer peace to everyone.
But beneath that beauty lie stories that went untold for decades.
Some grieved without a photograph.
Some waited for decades for a loved one who was never buried.
Why do some memories become unspeakable?
Why does some pain not end, even after it’s over?
This is a story about Jeju 4·3.
I hope to gently step into those memories—
the ones left unspoken for far too long.
Time Forbidden to Remember
In history books, Jeju 4·3 is often reduced to a few cold phrases:
“Insurgency,” “suppression,” “tens of thousands dead.”
But the truth is never that simple.
From 1947 to 1954, Jeju endured one of the darkest chapters in Korea’s modern history.
A resistance against unjust elections and state violence led to a catastrophe that took the lives of over 30,000 civilians.
Nearly one in ten Jeju residents were killed.
And for those who survived, the only thing left was a haunting phrase:
“Forget, or you won’t survive.”
But today, to remember is not to reopen old wounds.
It is where healing begins.
Prologue of History — Division of a Peninsula
To understand what happened on Jeju,
we must first look beyond the island to the broader history of the Korean Peninsula.
In 1945, Korea was liberated from Japanese colonial rule.
But liberation was soon followed by division:
North and South, Soviet and American influence, ideology and fear.
In 1948, the first general election to establish a South Korean government was planned.
But many people in Jeju felt that this election would solidify the permanent division of the country.
The Spark of Gunfire — The March 1 Incident
On March 1, 1947, a large-scale event commemorating the March 1st Independence Movement was held in Jeju.
After the school ceremony ended, a peaceful crowd marched through town.
During the procession, a child was trampled by a police horse.
When the officer ignored the child, outraged citizens threw stones in protest.
The armed police opened fire.
Six people were killed on the spot.
Jeju was engulfed in sorrow and rage.
What followed was not simply a conflict,
but a massacre born of fear, political tension, and the early Cold War.
The police aiming at the crowd.
| Source: Jeju 4·3 Peace Foundation
General Strike and the Onset of Repression
In the aftermath of the shootings, anger swept across Jeju. That anger soon turned into action. On March 10, 1947, an unprecedented general strike — jointly organized by civil servants and citizens — began, making history as one of the largest peaceful protests of its kind.
However, the U.S. military government labeled Jeju as a “Red Island,”
and soon, members of the far-right Northwest Youth League (Seobukcheongnyeonhoe) arrived on the island.
They took control of the police, administrative offices, and even schools.
There are records of dozens of innocent Jeju residents being crammed into tiny detention cells.
According to a U.S. military inspection report, 35 people were confined in a space just 3.3 pyeong (about 11 square meters),
where they were forced to spend the night without even being able to sit down.
Under the name of a “Red Hunt,”
they threatened, tortured, and in some cases, killed people.
The anger against such oppression grew steadily.
The voices of resistance combined with growing opposition to the May 10 unilateral election —
and eventually, it led to an armed uprising.
A replica of the jail cell
installed in the permanent exhibition room
of the Jeju 4·3 PeaceMemorial Hall.
| Source: Jeju 4·3 Peace Foundation
“My second son, my daughter-in-law, and my eldest son — they were all taken from me, right before my eyes. They each told me not to worry, but none of them ever came back.
Even now, when the sorrow wells up in my chest, it feels like blood pours from my throat.
It’s so unbearably unjust — I cannot die, not until I see my son again, even if it takes hundreds of years. I simply cannot die.”
– Testimony of the late Yun Hee-cheon, mother of Yang Eun-ha, who was tortured to death
Jeju in Flames – Scorched Earth and Slaughter
In 1948, as South and North Korea each established separate governments, Jeju found itself isolated in between. Because the island opposed the unilateral election, the government branded it a “dangerous” region, and the U.S. military government moved to suppress it by force. Any resident living more than 5 kilometers inland from the coast could be labeled a “rebel” and shot on sight.
Over a hundred villages were burned down. Innocent civilians and even livestock — cows, horses, pigs — were slaughtered under the excuse that they might become food for the rebels. The flames consumed not just homes, but entire lives, livelihoods, and hope itself. Jeju was engulfed in fire.
The New York Times later reported that American commanders were enraged, and a “campaign to cleanse the island” had begun. The U.S. did not engage in direct combat, but it was deeply involved through military advisors who held command authority and provided weapons and logistical support. Brigadier General Roberts and Colonel Song Yo-chan were central figures in the operation — even praised in official statements.
In January 1949, President Syngman Rhee ordered the harsh suppression of the Jeju uprising, explicitly stating that it was to “increase American aid.”
Later that spring, about 8,000 refugees hiding in the mountains came down, trusting the government’s promise of safety. But 1,600 of them were executed or sent to prisons on the mainland after being convicted in illegal military tribunals.
When the Korean War broke out in 1950, prisoners and pre-emptively detained civilians were again killed. Many bodies were buried near the airport or drowned at sea, never to return to their families.
Beyond Silence, Toward the Truth
For decades, Jeju 4·3 was a forbidden topic.
Victims were silenced.
Families feared even speaking the name.
But in 2000, the Jeju 4·3 Special Act was enacted.
In 2003, the government officially acknowledged that the state had violated human rights.
President Roh Moo-hyun delivered an apology.
Jeju was later declared an “Island of World Peace,” and April 3rd was designated as a national memorial day.
Joint ceremonies of remembrance and efforts toward reconciliation have continued.
Jeju 4·3 remains a meaningful milestone in Korea’s journey toward justice and healing.
| Source: Jeju 4·3 Peace Foundation
And Finally: Not a Side, But a Stand for Humanity
Jeju 4·3 is not a closed chapter in history.
The massacre of innocent civilians, including children, women, and the elderly, was not a simple act of suppression, but state violence in the name of ideology. Though the South Korean government has issued official apologies and begun efforts toward restitution, the United States, a key party involved, remains silent.
At a UN Human Rights Symposium in 2019, U.S. Congressman Charles Rangel said:
“To truly strengthen the ROK-U.S. alliance, we must face past issues like Jeju 4·3 with sincerity.”
In a world still struggling with injustice, division, and silence, Jeju 4·3 reminds us that there is another way — a human way.
Jeju is no longer silent. It remembers, it speaks, and it passes on the truth.
And when the world demands us to take sides, Jeju offers this answer:
“We are not on anyone’s side. We are on the side of humanity.”
The choice is now ours — to remember or forget, to heal or repeat.
