Ever get a song stuck in your head? You wake up with it playing over and over just beyond the edge of conscious thought? You may have heard it just before falling asleep, or between repeated mashing of the snooze button in the morning, but whatever the reason, whatever the source, you can’t seem to get it out of your head.

Last night out on our balcony my wife and I were discussing random topics having to do with our recent move when somehow (you know how these things go) the conversation shifted to one that truly fascinates me and has for some time. Now, it’s not the first time this has come up between us, but for some reason this morning I woke up still thinking about it.

Essentially, the question was why do the Korean people and culture still exist? Now, my wife was born in Korea and so this is a natural question—more or less, I'd never claim "normalcy"—but as we discussed it this time we agreed that there are a small number of other peoples that could be similarly classified and about which the same question could be reasonably asked. Sandwiched between regional power Japan and regional superpower China—through its multiple dynastic rises and falls, expansions and contractions—how does a relatively small group of people survive for over 3,000 years with distinctive cultural markers intact?

Before you shrug and dismiss the question, consider for a moment that the list of cultures that either completely disappeared or were ground into near absolute assimilation with another is a long one indeed. Where do you go, for instance, to sample Elamite cuisine? Who sponsors Hittite dirty-dancing contests? How does one contact the Carthaginian Cultural Center? How often do you bump into an Assyrian while ordering drinks at an airline lounge? The answers; nowhere, nobody, you can’t, and very, very, VERY rarely.

These are, perhaps, ancient examples, and I use them to prove a point primarily because most of you are at least familiar with some or all of them. That said, look at the number of contributing cultural groups that were rolled into what is today the Mongolian, Chinese, French, Russian, or Persian ethnicities. Nearly nothing of the original distinctiveness of those smaller cultures remains today. To put it in friendly Sci-fi terms, it's as if they all crossed paths with Star Trek's Borg.

Why, then, do the Korean people continue to exist as a vibrant and decidedly distinct culture? Is it the fact that they created their own language? The Celts had their own language. Could it be geography and rugged terrain that protected them? The same was true for the Minoans. Maybe its attitude, a dogged refusal to be or stay conquered? The Babylonians resisted Assyria, the Persians, and the Romans for MILLENIA and still eventually disappeared as a culture.

These factors alone don’t seem adequate to explain the phenomenon. And yet, as I alluded to above, there are other cultures on this planet of ours that seem to display a similar steadfast and enduring refusal to disappear, despite the odds stacked against them. How did the Finns survive between Russia and the 30 Years War Godzilla that was Sweden, acquitting itself so well against the Juggernaut Soviet Red Army as recently as WWII? The Swiss, tucked neatly between perennial heavyweights Germany, France, Austro-Hungary, and Italy. Or the Vietnamese, surviving with India and China as aggressive, expansive neighbors, successfully defending itself against France, then the United States, and finally the PRC all in the 20th Century alone! There seems to be something about these people, some defiant spark that keeps those unifying cultural markers alive. Something that allows them to temporarily set aside local differences and problems, refuse to let outsiders divide and conquer them, and push back relentlessly against what they perceive to be external aggression.

I’ll no doubt return many times in the future to this specific topic, but this is part of why I love to study the Japanese Invasion of Korea in 1590. In part because the formal Korean defense structure, field armies led by Scholar-Nobles defending extensive fortifications of cities and restrictive mountainous terrain, utterly failed to protect the country. It was largely the gumption and refusal to accept defeat of farmers, fishermen, monks, traders, locally raised leaders, and just plain average Korean men and women that resisted, and did so with brutal effectiveness. Couple that with an unorthodox Naval Commander—whose only previous combat experience had been with cavalry on the northern frontier—and you have the makings of a phenomenal story of national survival. The fact of the Ming Chinese intervention only increases my awe as the powerful Ming should, perhaps, have taken advantage of the weakened Korean state and formally made it part of China, a feat attempted many times throughout the history of Korean-Chinese relations. But that’s not what happened. The Chinese seem to have learned their historical lesson dealing with Korea and didn’t press the advantage, withdrawing their forces at the request of the Korean government.

The ultimate result? I can go to a Korean restaurant in Tokyo, learn traditional Korean Folk Dancing in Los Angeles, contact the Korean Cultural Center in London, and shoot traditional Korean archery in Seoul. This is a culture that survived invasions and temporary occupations by China, the Mongols, the Manchu, Russia, and Japan, and defended itself against multiple 19th Century Western military adventures, and yet somehow not only survived, but thrives.

This is worthy of study, I think, as is the similar, never-say-die national characteristic of the Finns, the Swiss, the Vietnamese, and others. It is admirable for what it says about we humans, what we are capable of being and accomplishing when adversity forces us to work together to achieve a common goal. On the flip-side, it’s a warning of what can happen when we fail in that regard. Both lessons are crucial to understanding ourselves, to truly comprehending what makes us think and act the way we do. It’s also a critical step along the path toward understanding the motives, intentions, and problem-solving methodologies found in other cultures. In this hyper-globalized world of real-time business and governmental interaction, that understanding is the irreplaceable cornerstone upon which success—no matter how one defines it—can be achieved.

Maybe now I can get this out of my head . . .

 M. G. Haynes