House of Letters is an essay series published by the Sejong Society of Washington D.C. showcasing perspectives and analysis from emerging scholars and thought leaders in Korean affairs. In today’s edition, Joe Along takes a look at the intersection between hip-hop, young men, and politics in contemporary South Korea.
What South Korean Hip-Hop Reveals About the Country’s Male Youth
Joe Along
While the political ascendancy of conservative-leaning young men in South Korea turned a few heads in recent years, the robust support that President Yoon Suk Yeol earned from that demographic in the 2022 presidential election solidified their rise to the forefront of the South Korean political landscape. Yoon won a whopping 58.7% of votes from men in their 20s and 52.8% from men in their 30s, compared to the 36.3% and 42.6%, respectively, that Yoon’s primary opponent received.
Signaling the growing discontent with the outgoing administration of President Moon Jae-in, one online user asked rather bluntly, “Is MC Meta a brain-dead Moon lover?” The now-deleted post attacking one of Korean hip-hop’s pioneering rappers is from the most active online forum dedicated to the topic, where moderators explicitly prohibit discussion of politics. However, the relationship between hip-hop, rap music, and politics is not so easily disentangled.
Rap, as a genre of music that is especially popular among male youth, offers a rich supply of texts that articulate the ambitions, anxieties, and ideologies of its artists and fans alike. Critics have problematized the promotion of misogynistic themes in American rap for decades, but in recent years Korean rap, too, has received similar critiques. Compounding the rampant casual misogyny is the perception that such tendencies contradict the generally progressive, if at times anti-establishment, angle that rap music often assumes. Voices from outside the Korean hip-hop community catalyzed debate about this alleged contradiction in the wake of former President Park Geun-hye’s impeachment, accusing rappers of “acting all tough yet sitting quietly in the face of power,” as music and cultural critic Kang Il-kwon summarized in an interview with the present author.
Less than a year later, rapper San E’s song “Feminist” sparked controversy with provocative lyrics that directly attacked Korean feminist rhetoric, albeit often misconstrued. Support for San E in online communities dedicated to Korean hip-hop was explosive. Kang described the pile-on as embracing the premise that there is a more acceptable form of feminism that is not “radical” or “improper” like the one Korean men are currently confronting. In this conceptualization, Korean men are also objects of systemic oppression, facing what feminist scholar Kim Jinsook called “crises in hegemonic masculinity and anxiety over changing gender relations.” Kim argued that these factors contributed to a popularization of misogynistic discourse in online communities beyond fringe extremist forums. It is no surprise, then, that President Yoon struck gold with his campaign promises that tapped into these sentiments of “overly radical” feminism and male oppression, such as abolishing the Ministry of Gender Equality and Family (whose official title in Korean literally translates to “Ministry of Women and Families”) and increasing the pay of military conscripts.
The issue of obligatory military service, in particular, is a point on which many South Korean men express frustration that their experiences are neglected in conversations of gender equality, which typically center on problems such as violence against women, the wage gap, and the country’s low birth rate. This antagonism once again pops up in online Korean hip-hop communities, where the occasional rant about particular artists or idol groups who fail to fulfill their military service requirements feature comments that volley red herrings and zero-sum-ism about women’s rights. No matter how vaguely the subject matter is connected to hip-hop, all of these conversations are predicated on the idea that hip-hop music is, and must be, a mouthpiece for its listeners.
This is not to say, of course, that all, or even many Korean hip-hop fans exhibit these views, nor that those who do can be generalized to represent all the conservative-leaning male youth who helped Yoon win the election. Nevertheless, those who do step up to speak and what they have to say can reveal fascinating insights into not just Korean hip-hop culture, but the broader socio-political undercurrents at work in the country.
Joe Along received his B.A. in East Asian Languages and Civilizations from the University of Chicago and his M.A. in Linguistics from Hankuk University of Foreign Studies. His master’s thesis explores the contours of Korean American rappers’ identities as expressed through their lyrics. Additionally, he has made several appearances on YouTube in the capacity of a hip-hop researcher for the channel 시켜서하는tv, which focuses on poetic analysis of rap lyrics.