Mignolo and Walsh have pointed out that “Decoloniality does not imply the absence of coloniality, but rather the serpentine movement toward possibilities of other modes of being, thinking, knowing, sensing and living, that is, an otherwise in the plural.”[1] Following this shift towards other modes I will prepare in the following a theoretical ground that aims to articulate the pluridimensional varieties of language, which is ever threatened by the linguistic hegemony of official languages rooted in the coloniality of language.
My own writing position within the discourse on the Coloniality of language, as a white male European, who was formatted by a Eurocentric plurilingual education, German literature and idealism makes it impossible to discount the relations of language, knowledge and power that gave me access to those different folds of experience and practice that all informed the imbrication of intimate linguistic worlds in larger power formations. As Mignolo and Tlostanova write: “Epistemology is intertwined with language, especially with alphabetically written languages. And languages are not something that man has, but they are part of what man is. As such, languages are embedded in the body and in the (geo-historically located) memories of every human being.”[2]
With this premise in mind, the process of coloniality of language becomes an educational agenda that is solely focused on legitimating western knowledge, often at the expense of assimilating or transforming other existing forms of knowledge. Embarking from the implications of linguistic hegemony in monolingual societies this section refers to the coloniality of language in the German Korean context as a living and breathing linguistic structure rooted in cultural and economic reproduction of the modernities. As Mignolo writes: “The basic thesis is the following: ‘modernity’ is a European narrative that hides its darker side, ‘coloniality’. Coloniality, in other words, is constitutive of modernity — there is no modernity without coloniality.”[4]
The term “Modernity/Coloniality,” originally coined by A. Quijano and further developed by decolonial thinker Nelson Maldonado-Torres within the context of South American colonialism, is defined as the “long-standing patterns of power that emerged as a result of colonialism but that define culture, labour, intersubjective relations, and knowledge production… [Coloniality] is maintained alive in books, in the criteria for academic performance, in cultural patterns, in common sense, in the self-image of peoples.”[5] In regard of this definition, I argue that coloniality of language as process existed long before European colonialism and persists in the colonial basis of education.
In this light the Korean short film “Tongue-Tied” directed by Park Jin-Pyo brings forth the reality of Maldonado-Torres’ definition of coloniality. This film, produced on behalf of the National Human Rights Commission of Korea in year 2003 and part of the compilation “If you were me,” aims to challenge discriminatory practices in Korea. One of the film’s segments focuses on the frequent practice of frenotomy in Korean preschool children. In oral and maxillofacial surgery, frenotomy refers to the surgical severing of the lingual frenulum, the thin tissue under the tongue, to make it longer and more agile. Korean parents used to opt for this surgery on their children due to social pressure to speak perfect English in a globalized professional world, with the expectation that it will prevent improper pronunciation of L and R sounds. This procedure offers an example of how coloniality works in tandem with linguistic occupation, which perpetuates stereotypes. It also problematizes the importance given to the concept of a proper language in particular regard to speaking and how language-doing affects many aspects of life: identity, self-esteem, self-confidence, or connections to family.
The fear of being linguistically stigmatized and disadvantaged makes it crucial to recognize that coloniality in language gains its complex and multifaceted hold, not only through the linkage between identity and language, but also through intersections with broader legacies of imperial legacies leading to cultural hybridity, economic exploitation, and a colonial mentality.
In this sense the coloniality of language on the Korean peninsula can be traced back to 109BC when China invaded and colonised Korea to establishing a traditional tributary system. In trading goods and culture, the Chinese Confucian empire had a strong influence on Korea promoting a societal framework centred around the patriarch, the family and characterized by a rigid binary division of sex and gender.
This hetero-patriarchal elitism dominating Korean society was embodied by the Scholars of the Jade Hall who sought to enforce the continued use of Hanmun (Chinese characters in Korean Official language) to protect their power as leading elite. They were opposed to King Sejong, who invented a script unique to the Korean language to literate lower-class people and distinct Korean culture from Chinese.
The elite’s intellectualism found its common ground in the cultural impact of the Tang dynasty of China, which existed from the 7th to 10th century. Chinese culture significantly influenced the Korean Empire during that period. While all neighbours were affected, Korea stands out as the most influenced by the cultural exchange during this era. However, due to the linguistic differences between the two nations, the Korean language was not well-suited to be expressed using Chinese characters. Recognizing this issue, the king, who had received an education in Chinese script and classics, became concerned about the lack of a simple writing system for ordinary Koreans. As a scholarly individual, he utilized his understanding of language to analyse the unique characteristics of the Korean language and eventually developed an alphabet called Hunmin Chongum. This handbook, dating back to 1446, has been remarkably well-preserved, providing insights not only into the meaning and purpose of the script but also into the motivations behind its invention. The king writes:” Being of foreign origin, Chinese characters are incapable of capturing uniquely Korean meanings. Therefore, many common people have no way to express their thoughts and feelings. Out of my sympathy for their difficulties, I have created a set of twenty-eight letters. The letters are quite easy to learn, and it is my fervent hope that they improve the quality of life of all people.”[6]
However, the reaction to the publication was nowhere near as positive as it is today. Under the derisive name Ŏnmun (vulgar script), the script was mocked. Derided as the script of women and uneducated people, it was quickly despised by the patriarchal establishment, regarded as inferior by the ancients and the non-hierarchical yin-yang relationship embedded in its design was immediately reinterpreted by scholars.
Due to the hostility from the Korean intelligentsia, the king first ordered to transcribe the classics like the Songs of the Dragons Flying to the Sky (龍飛御天歌), which sings of the founding of the Chosŏn Dynasty as well as the predecessors of Sejong. The first Buddhist text in the new script was the episodes from the life of Buddha (釋譜詳節), followed by The Melodies of The Moon Shining On A Thousand Rivers (月印千江之曲) and the pronunciation dictionary The Correct Rhymes of the Country in the East (東國正韻) – all three works are from the Year 1447. One such scholar, Choi Manli, vehemently opposed to the script: “I fear that the people will fall into laziness and never make efforts to learn. Those who do not use Chinese characters, but [use] other letters and alphabets, such as the Mongols, Sohans, Jurchens, Japanese and Tibetans, are all barbarians without exception. To use new letters would surely make us barbarians ourselves. The new alphabet is in truth no more than an eccentric and ill-considered crudity, an obstruction to literary progress, and of no possible benefit to the government. ”[7]
The scholar’s rejection highlights the presence of coloniality of language, which manifests in the ruling class’s insistence on maintaining hierarchies among languages. They tend to view the language used by the colonizer as superior and prestigious, while native languages are devalued and stigmatized, serving the purpose of preserving their dominance and control. This reinforces existing power imbalances and exemplifies the coloniality of language, wherein certain languages are granted more value and privilege than others. Opposition to the new alphabet, based on the argument that its simplicity would discourage learning efforts, further highlights the complex interplay between language and the coloniality of power. Such resistance exposes the entrenched belief system that perpetuates the dominance of certain languages, while undermining the potential of alternative linguistic systems.
[1] Walter D. Mignolo, and Catherine Walsh, C. On Decoloniality: Concepts, Analytics, Praxis. (Durham, Duke University Press, 2018): 81.
[2] Madina Tlostanova, and Walter D. Mignolo, Learning to Unlearn: Decolonial Reflections from Eurasia and the Americas”, (Columbus: The Ohio State University Press 2012): 207.
[3] Walter D. Mignolo, De-Linking: The Rhetoric of Modernity, the Logic of Coloniality and the Grammar of Decoloniality, Cultural Studies, (2007a): 500.DOI: 10.1080/09502380601162647
[4] Walter D. Mignolo, Coloniality: The Darker Side of Modernity. In Coloniality at Large: Latin America and the Postcolonial Debate, edited by Mabel Moraña, Enrico Dussel, and Carlos A. Jáuregui. Durham: Duke University Press, (2008): 39.
[5]Nelson Maldonado-Torres, On the coloniality of being Contributions to the development of a concept. Cultural Studies, 21(2) (2007): 243. DOI:10.1080/09502380601162548
[6]Young-Key Kim-Renaud, The Korean Alphabet: Its History and Structure,
Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, (2021): 289.
[7]Franz, Wolfgang, und Reiner Ischert. Hun min jeong eum: die richtigen Laute zur Unterweisung des Volkes; (1446). In Hun min jeong eum: die richtigen Laute zur Unterweisung des Volkes; (1446). Edited by Herbert Zachert. Translated by Wolfgang Franz u. Reiner Ischert. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, (1980): 22.